


TO CRAVE YOUR BLADE AT MY THROAT

by VirginiaBlack517



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But I'm Gonna Make You Hurt First, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Declarations Of Love, Definitely Mature, Enemies to Lovers, Enemy Mine AU, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, Human, I Hate Using The Well-Written Tag, Implied Consent, Minor Gore But Not Really, Oh But Kara Has Some Hating To Do First, Retro Scifi, Science Fiction, SuperCorp, SuperCorpAU - Freeform, Well-Written, Yes There Is A Playlist, lena is a badass, no superpowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:41:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 43,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28282605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirginiaBlack517/pseuds/VirginiaBlack517
Summary: Kara Zor-El, last heir to the lost throne of the planet Krypton, is one of a thousand refugees fleeing the galactic tyranny of a brutal Luthorian regime. At last, her people have found a new home but before they can rebuild, a new arrival stands in their way.In the dark cold of space, Kara battles with a lone Luthorian cruiser until she gains the upper hand. She wins, but the damage to her ship forces her to crash on an empty, lifeless moon.Lost and wounded with no way to contact her people, Kara is marooned without hope of rescue or escape.Until Kara discovers she’s not alone, and the other person is her sworn enemy.
Relationships: Kara Danvers & Lena Luthor, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Lena Luthor/Kara Zor-El
Comments: 209
Kudos: 536





	1. PROLOGUE

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Avanwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avanwolf/gifts), [Wanessa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanessa/gifts), [GiselleBrito](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiselleBrito/gifts), [Rebellion_Bear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebellion_Bear/gifts), [ValkyrieNine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValkyrieNine/gifts), [shedevil6](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shedevil6/gifts), [FallenTemplar709](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenTemplar709/gifts), [V240](https://archiveofourown.org/users/V240/gifts), [danvers_luthor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/danvers_luthor/gifts), [danversdotcom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/danversdotcom/gifts), [WhatTheEl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatTheEl/gifts), [JBQ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JBQ/gifts), [Britterdd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Britterdd/gifts), [OceanSun14](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceanSun14/gifts), [kellsbells](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellsbells/gifts), [AndreKl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreKl/gifts).



> An homage to retro sci-fi (including BSG and Enemy Mine).
> 
> Be sure to subscribe for updates! (And subscribe to my user account for other story updates as well.) Feedback very much encouraged here and on Twitter ( at virginiablk517). 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this one as much as I enjoyed writing it (which was A LOT).

** PROLOGUE **

It takes three days for Kara to find the wreckage.

The tiny escort fighter seems smaller than what she remembers, made more so by the loss of one wing and the warped collapse of the nose where it had collided with a wall of rock. In the months since the crash, the cockpit has filled with rainwater and meteors have scored the hull.

She’s come seeking answers but none are here. The burned out corpse of her ship offers no commentary on her circumstances or the incidents that drove her to return here.

The past and the present wrestle for dominion. Inside her, knots twist and tie and she can’t unravel them. When at last she decides to return to the canyon that is now her permanent shelter, Kara is not the same person.

The makeshift bundle on her back with her simple rations and self-carved spears is cumbersome but not difficult to carry. Kara is stronger than she was when she first crashed here. After months marooned on this rock, she’s nothing but lean hard muscle covered in ever expanding scars.

A breeze rises, brushing against skin exposed by tears in her flight suit. It pulls her attention from the cacophony in her head. It’s been weeks, almost months, since Kara has been outside at this time of night. The sky is clear, the stars are bright and there’s a peaceful magic to the wild landscape, but it doesn’t soothe her, not in the wake of what she now knows, of the truth revealed about someone she thought she knew.

She wonders at providence - to have come all this way across the galaxy, to be marooned on this moon where she will likely die, and yet she has come closer to her parents’ killer than she might have ever done in her old life.

Fate is maddening.

The perils of the landscape are more well-known to Kara now so she travels easily. Because of the rare light of another distant moon, her path is well-lit before her. Guided by the piles of stones she left to mark her way, she makes good time.

In the canyon that is her destination, the fire is banked. The upside-down wreckage of her enemy’s ship, half-buried in the side of a rocky hill, is dark and nothing moves. Kara stashes her supplies as quietly as she can and weighs sleeping outside again against crawling into the ship. When Kara approaches the ship’s door, the decision is made for her as it slams open.

The ship’s lone occupant steps into the night. Lena’s long dark hair is wild and free, and she raises a projectile-firing weapon between them.

Kara freezes, the shock of the weapon’s aim at her chest stealing her breath.

The moonlight washes the green from Lena’s eyes, leaving an ethereal grey, and her features are fierce enough to have been carved from stone. “Are you here to try to kill me? Because I assure you, I will not yield to your vengeance and you are no match for me.”

With her other hand, Lena draws her blade.


	2. CHAPTER 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Kara Zor-El, a princess without a throne ordained to lead a people with no hope of survival.

** CHAPTER 1 **

On the bridge deck of a commandeered spaceship renamed the Kryptonian Fleet Vessel _Alura_ , Kara Zor-El looks up from her console. Commander Alexandra Danvers steps in front of a large viewscreen of stars against the black of space.

“We’re clear,” Alex says.

A small weary cheer rises but then falls at Alex’s pointed glance.

“Beta shift, take a fifteen-minute break then get back to your stations.” Alex runs her hand through her short and disheveled auburn hair, the only indication of her fatigue. “Alpha shift, once they return, you’re dismissed until the next rotation. Everyone else, at your leisure. You’ve earned it.”

For the last seventeen hours, all coordinating personnel have been on duty to guide their fleet through jump point after jump point in an attempt to reach freedom from pursuing Luthorian forces.

This is the third such pursuit in as many weeks. The fact that they haven’t lost any ships – this time - is a miracle.

Kara stands and stretches, then winces at the sound of ripped fabric. One of her over-mended stitches must have come loose.

Alex appears by her side. “Princess, a word.” She always defers to Kara in public. In private is a different matter.

Kara follows Alex to the side of the room, away from the others.

“Please stop calling me that,” Kara says when she is sure no one else can hear them.

“Your rank is more important now than ever. Our people need you.”

“For what?” Kara says. “Besides my ability to program the water reprocessors?”

_Alura_ is one of the oldest ships in their contingent and the largest. Constructed by their enemies, the ship was stolen and repurposed though all of its surfaces have been scraped of every Luthorian emblem and designation. The original programming and configurations remain, and Kara is one of the few people in the entire fleet who both comprehends some of the Luthori language and also has the technical understanding of how the equipment functions.

“A few words from you would encourage them to keep going.” Alex sighs. “They need hope, Kara.”

Kara knows better than to argue but her weariness prompts her to tell the truth. “Well, they’re going to have to get it somewhere else.”

If everyone else is relying on her, who does she have to turn to when she doesn’t have any guidance for anyone?

“Besides, Alex, you’re a far better leader than I could ever be.”

Alex frowns but Kara returns to her station to log the last few hours of activity. Once her beta shift relief comes, Kara’s ready to find the nearest hot-bunk before her eyes close without her permission.

Just like any other day.

Kara takes one look at the crowded line in the mess hall and knows it will be at least a half hour wait for a hot meal. She can’t stand that long. A dispenser near the door administers ready-made rations for those who have to grab a bite and go. Tasteless but convenient, the small blocks of processed food will serve her needs for now.

The off-duty rest-and-relaxation section of the ship is beyond the other end of the long flight deck. She walks the hall between the two areas and glances through the glass along one side. Overworked but diligent crews tend to the mismatched fighters, scrambling to keep aged technology in fighting condition.

When she isn’t aiding the bridge crew with the foreign Luthorian systems, she works flight support. Tired as she may be, the endless list of tasks beckons her to help.

As exhausted as Kara is, she’d make more work for herself by trying to contribute. She needs to sleep, even if it isn’t restful.

By the time she gets to the bunk area, she’s consumed both food rations. A short trip to sanitation removes the smell of such a long shift from her skin. She drinks a double ration of water with no small measure of guilt, then eyes the first empty bunk she comes across.

Kara falls into a restless, dreamless sleep as soon as her eyes close.

X – X – X – X – X

Two long days later, Kara joins the flow of people pouring into the small briefing area near _Alura’s_ flight deck. The unnatural light makes everyone look ill. No amount of chemical cleanser can remove the years of grease and grime that have accumulated in the crevices of the bulkheads and decks, and the room looks dingy and neglected.

Kara gazes around the room at her compatriots, a ragtag collection of people of varying ages and skills who give their best every day to keep their caravan moving forward. She tries not to think about the faces of those who are gone now.

Alex strides into the room with purpose, her long angular form dressed in her trademark black. She seems more upbeat than usual, and Kara wonders why.

She doesn’t have to wait long.

Alex steps behind the podium and smiles with a wide genuine warmth Kara hasn’t seen in months.

“Today marks the twenty-eighth anniversary of Princess Kara Zor-El’s birth into Rao’s light.”

Kara freezes. She’d forgotten the date. Around her everyone brightens and looks her way. Their gasps of joy feel like blows.

These people - she’s known them all her life. Strong, persistent driven people, who have lived with the realities of an uncertain life in space for decades, and now they turn to her for the perfect future they’ve been promised. They are happy for her, for themselves - hopeful and relieved, as if her sole presence changes their fates.

Kara feels only dread and hears nothing else Alex says. When Alex dips her head in an unspoken invitation for Kara to say something, Kara ignores her.

Alex raises her hands in applause and everyone in the room joins her. One of the fighter coordinators tugs Kara’s sleeve. He’s twice as old as she, yet he’s exuberant like a child.

“You are of age now, Kara,” he says, his eyes wet with tears. “You can take the throne.”

She bites back her response, but it’s a close moment and her anger almost slips out. What throne?

Fewer than a thousand of her people remain. Once, they’d been a proud people living on an independent New Krypton, but the Luthorians had destroyed their homes in an ever-expanding drive for new territory.

Now, Kara is the last descendant of a long-dead monarchy. Her kingdom is a caravan of eighty-four spaceships - most of them stolen - with a few dozen fighters to defend them. They have no home and no refuge as they search for a planet no one has ever seen with only a legend to guide them.

Kara is now legally allowed to claim her birthright, but she has no idea what that might mean. She isn’t qualified to take over Alex’s position as commander, and Alex’s orders are the sole system of government. It’s not what her parents had in mind when they planned to rule.

Her mother and father had been the figureheads of their remaining society in its quest for Krypton where ancient lore says their origins lie. Both of them were killed when Kara was little more than a child. Though just a handful of years older than Kara, Alex was named regent, and has watched over Kara in the years since.

Kara can’t remember her father’s face anymore. She remembers her mother’s voice but not her laugh. What they envisioned for Kara grows more insubstantial, and this planet that hints at their salvation could be nothing but the wistful dream of a dying people.

Why would she want to take the mantle of long dead rulers if only to guide her people to their inevitable demise?

Alert lights flash yellow and make Alex even paler as two technicians approach her to speak in low voices. When they step away, Alex takes a shaking breath before pulling herself together.

Kara inhales with a gasp, holding it much like her hope, but she knows that set to Alex’s shoulders. There is no good news.

Alex turns to the rest of the room and lifts a hand for quiet. It’s unnecessary - everyone else is already still.

“All ships and personnel from the supply convoy to Yagis Prime were lost.”

For years, they have traveled the outskirts of Luthorian-controlled space. Staying alive means scrounging resources wherever they can but the whole contingent can’t move without attracting attention. Small convoys venture away from the caravan whenever the opportunity for resupply arises.

Sometimes, they aren’t successful.

Alex clasps her hands behind her as the murmur of disappointment and sorrow moves through the room, but it quiets as she draws a deep breath.

“That’s not all.” Alex speaks without emotion, but Kara can tell how much Alex is hanging on through sheer will. “Their final message to the relay was intercepted and Fancor was raided. Our current position was revealed, and Luthorian vessels are headed our way. We’ve got about six hours to clear the area.”

As usual, they have no time to mourn the fallen. Kara locks down her grief to do her duty.

Most of the ships are configured for quick escapes. With little notice, they are battened down and ready for faster-than-light travel.

What takes time is making sure all personnel are accounted for, all locations logged, all equipment tallied and updated in the registers. When a ship goes missing, Alex and her staff need to know what resources have been sacrificed. While the navigators plot the course for escape, the rest of the fleet moves into formation, restocks the fighters, inventories their cargo and prepares for exodus.

Once again, Kara toils with her crewmates until they have evaded pursuit, until they’ve escaped detection, until they are safe.

As Kara once again fights to stay upright long enough to find a bed, she knows they won’t be safe for long.

X – X – X – X – X

Red light blasts through her eyelids until she wakes. Kara paws at the panel on the bulkhead near the balled-up flight jacket she uses as a pillow. The display activates, and she curses when she sees the time.

She’s been asleep for twenty minutes.

Kara taps the comm interface. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry, Princess, but - “

“Stop calling me that, Alex.”

“Kara.” Alex’s urgency cuts through Kara’s fatigue. “We’ve found Krypton.”


	3. CHAPTER 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and her people may have found Krypton, but an even larger challenge looms between her and her destiny.

** CHAPTER 2 **

The wan light from this system’s distant star isn’t enough to keep Kara awake. Red lights on the console of her small fighter craft and the silence of space only lull her into deeper relaxation. She bites her cheek and tastes blood but is relieved that she hasn’t fallen asleep on duty again.

If she believes the navigators, they are closer to Krypton every day. The planet they’ve found whose stars match the old records is their new destination. Alex told her, hope lighting her eyes, that soon she will stand and rule on Krypton.

Kara wishes she were looking forward to it as much as everyone else seems to be, but instead dread chills her skin more than the cold of space pressing in on her ship.

This sector is unpopulated as far as their sensors reveal, but Alex never trusts the sensor grids to tell the whole story. They lost another supply convoy to the Luthorians, this time with two transports that were completely destroyed.

More of her people dead in this seemingly endless search for an elusive home.

Reduced staff means those remaining have to take on more of the work to keep the caravan moving. In addition to her work on the command deck and as-needed repairs on equipment throughout the fleet, Kara now takes turns in the escort rotation. Alex doesn’t like it that Kara has joined the patrol ranks, but she has yet to argue that it isn’t necessary. They need every hand they can get if they’re going to continue.

Sometimes Kara wonders why they keep going. What would happen if the fleet broke up, if they all went their separate ways to find new homes on other planets? Would it really be so bad? A moment later, she hates herself for giving up, for abandoning the dream that her parents had believed in so much.

“Gamma fighters.” The dispatch announcer breaks into her thoughts, his voice comforting in her airtight helmet. “Commence bay protocols, fore fleet position topside.”

A squadron of fighters patrols the periphery of the fleet as they travel in sub-faster-than-light speeds. One by one, the other fighters in her contingent answer back. Kara stretches her fingers inside her gloves and blinks widely, prodding herself into alertness.

“Gamma nine,” Kara says when it’s her turn. “Acknowledged.”

Before she knows it, she is back in the hall headed toward _Alura’s_ dormitory section. Kara doesn’t remember landing or performing the post-flight inspection of her ship. She doesn’t remember fetching the food ration in her hand that is mostly eaten already.

Row after row of bunks built four-high into the bulkheads offer nothing but restless sleep - no personalization and no privacy. She is too tired to clean up. When she runs a hand through her collar-length hair, she winces at the oily grime she feels, unsure if it’s from her hand or her hair.

She’s got four hours before she needs to be back on the bridge. Kara feels tears as she collapses on a low bunk, surprised her eyes are wet at all. She curls herself toward the bulkhead, her back her only means of shutting out her existence. The chatter from other bunks and the constant ship’s announcements over the comm system do nothing to keep her from blessed oblivion.

X – X – X – X - X

“Are you sure there’s no one else?” Alex stands tall, her arms crossed over her chest, while the rest of the staff including Kara bends over the console for a clearer view of the datastream. A murky image of a red planet fills the viewer.

Krypton.

Winn Schott, one of the communications technicians, presses a green button. “Epsi Four. Confirm contact scan results.”

“This is Epsi Four.” James Olsen, one of the best fighter pilots in their small squadron, sounds as baritone as ever, but interference from the wide asteroid field between the scouts and the rest of the fleet turns his voice to a crackling scratch. Whatever ore and minerals make up the asteroids’ content affects their comms and longer-range sensors. “Zero contacts. Repeat, zero contacts. Resending surface topology results.”

It takes a full five minutes for the data stream to upload but there’s no change from what they’ve already seen. The entire planet is uninhabited, and the only proof that anyone has been here at all is an abandoned comm station near the equator of the visible hemisphere.

“Princess,” Alex says. “How soon can you analyze the data from that comm station?”

So much for grabbing a nap before the next duty rotation. Kara has already been up for over twenty hours. 

“Preliminary data in four hours, maybe less.” Kara returns to her post and squints at the display screen. “Detailed analysis will take longer, but you’ll have it before the next shift.”

Alex nods as she steps away from the console and heads for her command chair. “Nobody goes any closer until -“

“Why the hell aren’t we going down there?” Leslie Willis, one of the transport pilots, pipes in from the open channel. Her ship is one of several that have performed surface scans on the planet. “No one’s fucking here.”

Alex seethes. “Belay that, Willis -“

“No, you’re not our queen, so you don’t get to say what’s what. And our heir to the throne is a waste of air who just mopes around since mommy and daddy were killed. How’s she going to lead anyone?”

The other technicians are too shocked to interrupt, and Kara is too worn out to care what Willis has to say about her.

Willis continues, unperturbed. “We’ve found the place we’ve been looking for. The Luthorians haven’t been here in years and we’re running out of supplies. We’ve waited long enough so let’s -“

Alex leans forward and her voice cuts through the room like the ice cold of vacuum. “Stand down, Pilot Willis.” She draws a visible breath. “We are not risking the safety of this fleet until we have ensured that every measure of that planet is free of Luthorian influence. No one sets foot on its soil until we know we can defend ourselves from any invaders. On my orders, Willis.”

Willis doesn’t say another word, and everyone resumes their duties until Winn shoots out his chair across from Kara’s station.

“Commander! One of the fighters has broken formation and is heading towards the planet.”

“You’ll never catch me in time.” Willis gloats over the open comms.

A clenched fist at her side is the only indication of Alex’s frustration and ire. She looks at Kara and the brief flash of helplessness surprises Kara more than anything else has in months.

Willis takes her fighter into the atmosphere, arcs her trajectory directly toward the lone comm station’s location. “You cowards worry too much. The Luthorians have forgotten all about this planet they stole from us, and it’s long past time for us to take it back.”

She is too far to intercept. With her ration of on-board munitions, Willis blows the abandoned station into pieces too small to show on scans.

Kara turns her back on this pissing match. She has data to analyze.

X – X – X – X - X

“The jump runs were bad enough. This is too dangerous.”

“I’ll be fine, Alex.” Kara fastens her flight suit, tugs on her gloves and tucks her helmet under one arm. “We haven’t received any alerts and we’ve been here weeks.” She turns toward her oldest and dearest friend. “We can’t wait any longer. We’ve got to move people to the settlements.”

An exploration contingent has discovered a temperate climate near the base of one of the mountain ranges - a perfect location for their first colony. Several of the larger transports have landed nearby, and while many of her people still reside on-ship, the amount of time they spend planetside has increased.

She wonders what the land is like, though. Kara has forgotten the feel of solid ground.

Still, she isn’t as excited as the others to see Krypton’s surface. So far, she has managed to put it off but soon, Alex will want her to take her rightful place leading their people.

In the meantime, the remaining fleet ships need to be protected even if their sensors haven’t picked up any sign of the Luthorians. Given a choice between building a colony and staying space-side, Kara prefers work on the skeleton crews locking down the fleet for permanent orbit or the escort runs to the planet.

Alex frowns. “Yes, but it doesn’t have to be you who goes down there.”

“I’m not. I’m just flying alongside the transports to the atmosphere and then I’ll come right back.”

Alex tugs her so hard by the sleeve that Kara is knocked off center and scoffs with impatience.

“Kara, that fighter of yours is a relic that needs a complete refit. The telemetry module is still broken and I know for a fact that -“

“Alex, relax. I’ll get enough data from the other systems to keep in line.” She lowers her voice so no one can overhear. “It’s just an escort mission. We’re understaffed and I’ve got to do my part.”

She bends her knees until she can see Alex’s downturned eyes. “I can’t skip out on basic duties, and all the other pilots are doing the same.”

Alex sighs. “Be careful.”

Kara glances around to make sure no one else is looking before she drops a quick kiss to Alex’s temple. “Stop worrying so much. It’ll be fine.”

Alex grunts. “Well, now you’ve gone and jinxed it.”

“I’m far too lucky for that.”

Kara is halfway across the flight deck before Alex calls after her. “That’s a double jinx!”

Kara looks back over her shoulder and shakes her head. Moments later, she stashes her perennial fatigue aside and climbs into her fighter.

Once all the planet-bound personnel have been shuttled to the surface, Kara is one of the last escorts to return _._

“Hope you’re not too bored out there in the dark,” Winn says, his voice clear and bright inside Kara’s helmet.

“It’s fine,” Kara says, more out of habit than truth. Sometimes Winn’s constant good cheer is oppressive. It isn’t that dark - the fleet hovers over the bright side of Krypton - but the monotony of sitting for hours in a tiny fighter has worn thin.

Not that she’ll admit it to Winn – or anyone else, so intent is she on proving her worth.

“Oh, shit,” Winn says.

The fear in his voice makes her grin. “What’s the matter? Alex show up and bust you in her chair again?” There isn’t generally much to smile about, but Winn’s command deck missteps are approaching legendary.

“K-Kara you’ve gotta - there’s m-multiple - “

His stuttering collapses into a nervous humming that makes Kara’s guts tighten. He’s an alarmist, but she’s never heard him sound like this.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” None of her displays show anything, but maybe the proximity sensors are broken.

“Get back to the bay, Kara.” Alex’s dominating voice breaks into the channel. “Now.”

“Damn it, Alex, why -“

“Incoming,” Susan Vasquez, one of the tactical technicians who coordinates combat runs, speaks in a calm tone. “Five contacts. Repeat, five contacts. Incoming, vector rho one four and closing.”

Too frozen to change her course, Kara stares at the now visible five quickly moving dots on her display. Only the knowledge that the ships are now in visual range snaps her out of her stupor. She whips her head around to look for herself.

One light cruiser and four fighters close on her position.

Alex and Winn are still yelling in her ears, but the thunder of her racing heartbeat thrums louder. Kara doesn’t have enough time to dock before the enemy ships arrive.

Six fighters launch from the side of the _Alura._

“I’m coming, Kara,” James says.

“Unidentified crafts.” A woman’s alto speaking crisp Luthori breaks into their comm feed. “This is the Luthori Prime Vessel _Kieran_. Stand down and hold position pending immediate approach.”

Kara may be the only one on comms who speaks any Luthori, but translation isn’t necessary.

The Luthorians have found them.


	4. CHAPTER 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sons and daughters of Krypton flock to Kara's aid, but will it be enough to save her from a new Luthorian foe?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //tw - character death
> 
> I know, I know! But stick with me...I swear it's worth it.

** CHAPTER 3 **

Kara has never been in combat. Not like this — trapped inside a fighter in open space against armed Luthorians.

She’s trying to remember to breathe.

“Gamma Nine,” Alex says. “Disengage and proceed to docking bay.” She’s terse, which means she’s frightened. Alex’s fear does nothing to calm Kara’s.

The Luthorian woman is still talking, saying that something is _down_ but Kara can’t make out all the words. On her display, the Luthorian ships break their tight formation and close in.

One of the smaller Luthorian ships bisects Kara’s path, blocking the docking bay and forcing her off course toward _Alura’_ s wide hull.

“Rao!” Kara curses as she pulls her fighter’s nose up in time to avoid a collision.

“She’s never going to make it.” Willis’ lack of faith in Kara’s abilities is evident. “I’m going in.”

“Disengage, Gamma Two,” Alex says, but her words are drowned by the sound of Willis’ shouting. Leslie has fired on one of the ships. One of the red dots on Kara’s display blinks and disappears as a bright fireball explodes to one side of her.

Kara’s heart stops, or so it feels, then hammers in triplicate in her chest.

The fight is silent yet not as voices overlap on the open comm link. The Luthorian woman yells in horror. Alex yells orders. Vasquez relays coordinates and tactical information. The fleet pilots shout maneuvers and coverage.

Two ships align on either side of Kara while the others engage the enemy fighters.

“One more try.” James sounds encouraging, despite the heat of battle.

By the time Kara travels over the ship and back to approach the bay again, three of their fighters have been destroyed. They’ve taken one of the enemy ships with them, but the unevenness of the fight demonstrates the Luthorians’ exceptional skill.

One of the enemy ships is larger than the others and a menacing black instead of gray. The glimmer of the system’s star on its hull reveals a designation Kara can’t read at this distance. This ship is four times as big as the Luthorian fighters, which are twice the size of their fleet fighters, and large enough to have a small crew. Its wings demonstrate its versatility - built for atmospheric travel as well as the vacuum of space.

Multiple guns line its dark hull. Despite its greater size, it maneuvers better than the others, executing tight curls and crisp arcs to avoid damage.

One of Kara’s escorts peels off to engage the enemy ships.

“How about some fucking coverage out here?” Willis is still in the fight, angrier than ever. “I can’t save her ass all by myself.”

“Gamma Nine.” Alex doesn’t identify Kara by name, but the “princess” is implied. “We can’t use the turrets until you’re inside.”

This deferential treatment is unwarranted. Kara is no more important than any other member of their crew, but that’s not true, is it? Alex won’t attempt to defend the others until Kara herself is secure.

And Kara isn’t doing any good out here.

“Go, Kara,” James says.

She presses several buttons on the console, but the auto-dock won’t engage. She curses because she has to do it herself. Flying manually means she has to lower her speed.

“ _Alura_ actual, Gamma Nine on manual approach.”

“Acknowledged, Gamma Nine.” The bay tech sounds young. She hopes he’s trained well enough for a hot landing. 

On the tactical display, another fleet ship and one more of the enemy vanish.

Kara glances between the docking bay and the battle, sticking to her path but trying to keep an eye on her friends and the enemy they fight.

The Luthorian has stopped talking.

With dread, Kara watches the last smaller Luthorian fighter sweep across the dark into position behind James.

“James!” Kara tightens her hands on the fighter’s control stick and wills his ship to move faster, to change course, all to no avail. “Look out!”

“Where?” James has lost his characteristic calm and shouts into the comm line. “I don’t see it.”

“It’s right behind y—“

A ball of white fire expands in the space where his ship had been. Kara raises a hand to block the light, then gasps at its meaning.

The only other remaining fleet ship moves into position between Kara and the last Luthorian small craft.

“My life support’s blown out.” Willis doesn’t sound worried. “Rao’s light, I am not gasping my way to death out here.”

One green dot speeds into a collision course with a red one until both blink and go dark. Willis is gone.

Only the large Luthorian ship is left.

Kara peels her fighter away from the docking path. Before she realizes what she’s doing, Kara fires at the last enemy vessel, the ringing in her own ears the only indication that she’s been screaming.

She misses with guns but she remembers she has two missiles as the ship fires on her as it passes. It arcs back for another run.

Alex is yelling but Kara ignores her. She fires at her target. One missile makes contact, clipping the ship hard but doing no substantial damage, yet it’s enough to force the other ship to pivot, briefly blown off course.

Its firing trajectory shifts and one of its missiles - instead of coming at Kara - shoots silently toward the _Alura_.

The command deck explodes. Eyes wide, Kara’s mouth falls open in horror as the comm line in her helmet goes silent.

Alex. _Alex._

The Luthorian vessel breaks off its attack on the fleet and changes course to fly directly at the planet.

Rage, white hot and irrepressible fills Kara’s veins. She fires again and the missile misses the rapidly veering ship, exploding instead against one of the smaller asteroids.

The ship isn’t firing back. Perhaps its guns have malfunctioned, but Kara doesn’t care.

Half the sensor feeds on the console blink red, and the malfunctioning telemetry module is completely dark.

No telemetry means no way to position herself or the fleet.

“ _Alura_ actual, this is Gamma Nine.”

Nothing but static answers her. Her rage chills to panic.

Getting back to the _Alura_ is now out of the question.

She follows the ship when it travels to the dark side of Krypton, its external lights giving away its position. Kara won’t let it escape. Whoever remains on that vessel deserves the justice she intends to deliver.

In the black of space, the ship is all Kara can see.

The ship drops below the planet’s shadow and darts into an asteroid belt. Beyond the belt looms one of Krypton’s five moons.

The Luthorian vessel slows when it approaches atmosphere, but Kara speeds up, closing the distance. The control stick rattles in her hands as the fighter reacts to the pull of the moon’s atmosphere. The enemy ship looms ahead, its path oddly straight.

She checks her instruments and curses. Her missiles are gone. Her guns are spent. Her only remaining weapon is a projectile drone with an electromagnetic pulse, and she must be close enough to make sure she doesn’t miss.

The tracking system flickers then stabilizes, but life support goes red. A sob wracks her chest, but Kara forces herself to focus.

When the tracking system confirms Kara’s target, she pushes the button that fires the drone.

The drone hits, attaches and emits the pulse.

All the lights on the ship go dark at once. It spirals into a rapidly increasing spin. A piece of equipment - something shot loose in the battle or rattled in the violent rotation - flies off as the enemy ship dives toward its inevitable crash.

It’s too late to change course. She doesn’t see the collision, but when the debris hits her ship, her head snaps against her seat and then bashes into the console.

The hiss of escaping oxygen is loud, and she opens her eyes to a crack across the face of her helmet. Beyond the fighter’s canopy, swirling clouds — thick and murky and backlit by a fiery red light — block her view. The sound of her engine roars in her ears as she sinks deeper into the atmosphere.

She breaks through the clouds. Jagged mountains come into view, the gaps between them nothing but black and gray and brown crag and valleys - nothing like the verdant images she’s seen of nearby Krypton.

This is a lifeless rock.

The stick barely responds, just enough to lift the nose, while the console stays dark. She has no way to decelerate and the fighter bounces when it finally hits the ground. It scrapes over land, each screeching grind ending in a crunch as part of the ship falls off.

Something dark and large looms ahead. Kara grips her harness tighter just before her fighter slams into the unknown.

Sharp pain spikes through her and blackness follows.


	5. CHAPTER 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surviving the crash may not be a blessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Transition chapter, but necessary.
> 
> cw/tw: mild violence and gore (creature feature), suicide reference.

** CHAPTER 4 **

A crackling hiss sounds in the dark.

Kara opens her eyes, gasping when a rhythmic tapping pounds in time with the pain pummeling her head.

The harness holds her fast to her seat and nothing feels broken. Weak red sunlight shines into the cockpit. Her helmet’s visor is webbed with cracks and one hole the size of the pad of her thumb. The console is dead, the instruments shattered, and the metal warped from impact.

The tapping is rain, a thin slurry of dirty water and dust that makes her want to stay put, but the crackling hiss has her fumbling for the harness straps.

Fire flickers in the engine compartment, flaring despite the rain. Some of the ship’s fuel must be acting as an accelerant and the fire spreads toward the cockpit.

It takes too long to remember where to find the manual eject lever. By the time she pulls it, flames crawl along one side of the ship, sweat coats her skin inside her flight suit and smoke curls up from somewhere under her legs.

The canopy pops off as designed. She whines as her boots burn her toes, as flames singe one arm of the suit, and she nearly screams with the effort to release the harness. As she lifts herself from the cockpit, her gloves stick to the hull and she hisses as she pulls her hands free. One glove is too burnt to come loose, and her hand tears out of it.

Kara jumps to the rocky ground, falling to her knees when her legs don’t hold her up on the first try. Something small in the cockpit explodes, just enough to spit sparks and she searches for safety.

Loose, fist-sized rock and scree slow her escape, forcing her to lean on low boulders with sharp edges. The crackling behind her intensifies as she scrabbles across the craggy rock. Several meters away, a boulder as tall as her shoulders might provide some cover from the rain.

A loud hiss is her only warning. As she turns to assess the damage, an explosion pops her eardrums, and the percussive wave sends her flying.

All is black again.

X – X – X – X - X

Pain - steady and thrumming, sharp and searing – wakes her.

With each heartbeat, the steady throb pumps in her head and chest, arms and body. She raises her head, feels the pull of new pain against spots on her face. More of her helmet’s visor has broken off in her impact. She hopes none of the debris is anywhere near her eyes. 

The sharp and searing pain comes from one leg, along with a tugging that shifts her whole body.

One look at her leg makes her scream.

Something is biting into her leg - something hideous and repulsive. The thing is oval-shaped, as long as her arm and low to the ground like an insect. She pulls her legs back only to kick the thing away. Despite the ache in the rest of her body, she pushes to her knees and whirls to face it.

When she kicks it again, her boot connects with its hard reptilian shell of a back. It makes a slimy squishing noise against the rocks, moving quickly to attack again even though it has no visible legs.

Odd pincers protrude from the end closest to her. Pointed teeth in a mouth as wide as her hand reveal themselves when it gets close enough to attempt another bite.

She screams every time it touches her until she finally scrambles away from it, climbing atop a boulder. The slippery, slanted surface is only wide enough for her to sit, but the boulder is tall enough for her to pull her feet from the thing’s range.

Ill-equipped to climb after her, it persists in trying.

Kara blinks away tears. Trapped, she shifts her weight and winces against the agony. One leg of her suit is shredded, and blood drips down one calf from the bite. Her body aches so badly she fears broken ribs. Thirst scratches at her throat and nausea swirls in her stomach as her head pounds. She slows her breathing, trying to get a handle on her pain so she can consider her options.

The rain increases, adding more dirt to her busted visor. There’s not much to see besides more rock, but she looks toward her ship anyway and moans in despair. 

Flames crawl over the hulking black wreck that was her fighter.

Perhaps it’s too soon to give up hope. Her people can still scan for her, can still find her.

But who will search for her? Their fighters were destroyed. _Alura’s_ command deck was obliterated. Most of the fleet is already planetside. How long will it take them to search for her, to find her?

How long can she last alone?

Sobbing hurts, so she fights against the tears.

The sun sets. The creature scrabbles and snaps though it climbs no higher.

Kara shivers in the rain. Night falls and she stares into the dwindling flames of her only hope, trying to ignore the creature waiting to devour her.

X – X – X – X - X

The fire dies long before sunrise and the rain stops. The creature leaves but she fears its return. She fears the possibility that it won’t return alone. And she fears what’s to become of her now.

When the pain is too much, she prays to Rao for perseverance, for fortitude, for salvation.

Only two of those things are under her control.

In the cold dark, she tries to conserve her energy, to remind herself that the light will return. Come morning, she’ll have to figure out how to survive. She’s come too far to consider any permanent solution -- not until all hope is lost.

A small voice in her head suggests all hope is already gone. She exiles it.

X – X – X – X - X

The temperature drops as daybreak approaches. She shivers, which only makes all the aches and pains more piercing. The bite is on the outside of her calf and hard to see, but it still bleeds through the jagged tear in her suit.

When she slides from her rugged pedestal to the ground, she winces at the impact before she limps back to her ship.

The wreck and fire left nothing to salvage, but one of the landing struts broke in the crash. The pole is as long as she is tall and more rectangular than cylindrical, but it might help fend off the creature should it return.

Hunger and thirst aren’t helping the pain. She removes her helmet for a clearer view. She needs to find a place with better cover – shelter is a higher priority than water. At least for now.

Kara strips a charred stretch of harness from the blackened cockpit and fashions a strap to carry her helmet so she has one hand free. She loops it over her shoulder and hoists her makeshift spear.

She knows nothing about this moon but decides sunrise is east. Due west, larger boulders crowd a low hill. Minding her wounded leg, Kara steps gingerly until she finds a rhythm.

Hours pass as she fights the absolute certainty of her circumstances and the implications of her injuries.

The distance is misleading and by mid-day, the boulders seem no closer. Every shift of the wind sounds like an approaching threat. The vigilance is tiring, but she can’t let down her guard. She rests on a rock, stretching her wounded leg out. The flesh around the bite is swollen, puffy and red. Her heartbeat pulses across the tight skin. Sweat slides down her spine but she still shivers. She’s not hungry anymore, either.

That means fever. The leg must be infected.

Nothing can be done about that yet.

Staying upright takes more energy than usual. She distracts herself with the terrain, but her effort is pointless. In every direction, there’s nothing but rocks and sand and scree – no vegetation of any kind, no sign of anything alive.

Back the way she’s come, the fighter seems closer than the hill she’s trying to get to. She managed to crash into the largest thing in what looks like the entire area.

Quitting sounds fantastic, but Kara doesn’t have it in her. She stakes the strut in the loose ground, leans into it and stands. Her calf throbs with the effort, but she must keep going.

She is forced to stop for two more breaks over the course of the afternoon and evening. When she gets to the hill, she finds only a large outcropping of more boulders.

It’s not until she tries to climb one of them and her boot slips that she realizes it’s raining again. Her hair drips into her face as she leans over and her flight suit is slick. A blister has risen on the hand holding the landing strut. Her other hand is still gloved but slides into a small puddle no deeper than her thumb in a curve of one of the large rocks.

She curses at first, irritated that moisture has made its way inside her glove, until her thirst smacks her more fully aware. Kara pushes the thought of contamination or incompatibility from her mind. If drinking the only water available kills her, so be it.

She ignores the dirt and grime, flattens herself against the rock and cups her other hand through the water. It’s gritty and metallic tasting and terrible, but she can’t help the moan at the feeling of the wet on her dry, parched throat.

Once she’s consumed enough that the grittiness makes the water repellant, she continues her climb.

Her hunger has returned, but she tries to push it out of her mind. She considers the creature who tried to eat her and wonders if she should return the favor, but if that disgusting thing is her best chance for nourishment…

Surely Rao won’t ask that of her.

Most of the rocks are exposed to the rain, but a small overhang provides a small measure of cover for her head and shoulders if not the rest of her. If anything like that creature shows up, she should be safe here.

She debates putting her helmet on to protect her head or keeping it off so she can breathe without fogging it up. Her fear of discovery by some unknown creature - as if the one she’s already seen isn’t bad enough - outweighs her discomfort.

Darkness falls and Kara curls herself into an upright ball, clutching her helmet against her chest. Her guts roil with the content of whatever had been in that water, stabbing her with an internal ache that makes her gasp.

Rao only knows why she didn’t die in the crash. She has no resources, no weapons, no supplies. Even if anyone on the command deck had survived the Luthorian incursion – and her chest seizes when she thinks of Alex dead - no one knows where she’s gone or what has happened to her.

Though her body can’t afford the loss of fluid, Kara weeps until she falls into a fitful sleep.

X – X – X – X - X

The next morning, Kara can’t bring herself to leave her position. She’s stiff, tired, starved, and dehydrated. Her leg has swollen to twice normal size. She stares at the desolate landscape and wonders if she can will herself to die here.

She looks for a long time before she realizes what it is she sees.

Far in the distance, a thin steady plume of dark smoke rises into the sky. It hadn’t been there yesterday.

Something - or someone - has made a fire.


	6. CHAPTER 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara finally sets eyes on the enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A gentle reminder – this story is an homage to certain famous SF entities but not an exact reproduction. If you’ve seen ENEMY MINE, some elements might be familiar, but not all of them will be present. If you’re familiar with BSG, ditto. I hope you’ll stick around for the ride, though, because I’m *really* happy with how this one turned out! 
> 
> Please be sure to give me a shout on Twitter (at virginiablk517) and subscribe for updates!

** CHAPTER 5 **

It’s not a wildfire. The single thin dark line persistently rises from the distant ground and hints at intelligence. The chance that the fire’s maker is some inhabitant of this moon is slim. Kara has seen no sign of anything smart enough to make a fire on its own.

It must be the Luthorians. They’ve crashed here as well and survived. New hatred lends fire to her will when it wanes. If she can get close enough, she might be able to kill them. The how of it doesn’t matter as much as the why. They murdered James, killed Winn and Alex, stranded her here far away from her people, doomed her to die -

Tears of mourning mingle with her rage and compel her forward despite the pain driving her to rest. She won’t last long with little water and no food, but Kara will make sure she doesn’t die alone.

A straight path to her destination doesn’t exist - not the way she’s traveling on foot. Some of the boulders are too hard to climb over and circumventing them adds time. Wide gashes in the ground between ranges of rock spew sulfuric fumes that push her off course. Gauging distances is difficult -- the homogeneous topography makes determining its scale impossible.

Something scuttles nearby when she passes through a small canyon, but never reveals itself. She holds the spear with mixed confidence and trudges onward.

With the mid-day peak of light comes a change in the weather. The wind picks up, dissipating the warmth and moisture from the earlier rain.

A murky gray and brown cloud rises before her in a wall of approaching storm. In minutes, sand swirls around her, obliterating her visibility and scratching against her skin.

Kara dons her helmet, though it provides minimal protection. Luck arrives in the shape of a low depression in the sand at the base of a slope of rock. Though she blocks the wind with her arm, she is still coughing and blinking grit by the time she crawls into the hole.

The small cave isn’t much wider than the span of her arms. It occurs to her too late that a creature like the one that attacked her might be inside, but though she prods her spear into the corners and the small holes in the walls, she hears nothing. She has no choice but to take the risk.

The wind and sand rages, too wild to lull her to sleep, too thick for her to breathe too deeply. She forces herself to relax her muscles despite the pulsing pain in her leg and her head, to take what respite she can.

When the storm clears, Kara considers resting another day in this spot. Her rage and hatred have eased with this recess, and she wonders if she can kill the Luthorians when she finds them. Perhaps it would be better to stay here under cover from the weather. A few more hours of rest might give her the strength to move on.

Then again, the Luthorians may be her only chance to find clean water. Or rations. Or medicine, or…

In any case, she must know who survived.

The strange cry of some animal echoes from underground. It sounds much bigger than the thing that bit her.

An uncertain fate against the Luthorians is preferable to being eaten alive by something she can’t see.

With cautious steps to keep her weight from falling too heavily on her injured leg, Kara crawls from the cave and resumes her course. The wind cleared away the storm so quickly it’s as if it never happened.

The rains return late afternoon, but the plume still rises. Twice, she slips on wet rock. The second time, a jagged stone cuts through her remaining glove. Now she has a wicked cut to join the still-bleeding bite on her leg. The air is moist and warm again, but she feels chilled, so the fever remains. At least she isn’t hallucinating.

When the thought arises that she may be imagining the smoke, she squelches it.

Assessing the terrain distracts her from the pain and doubt. This moon is desolate, yes, but also riveting in a way. If she can focus on that – on the feel of dirt under her feet for the first time in what seems like forever, on how the land here is so different from that of the planet taking up half the sky – perhaps she can keep the despair at bay.

Because despair is growing, swelling inside her with every glance at Krypton. To have come so far across the galaxy, to have battled disbelief at the verity of its legend, to be so close to the dreams her parents had held for so long and yet have no chance now of ever setting foot on –

She bites her own lip until she tastes blood, adds the new pain to the plethora of aches coursing through her. Better to stare at the rocks and marvel at the sand than wonder at a planet so far out of her reach.

In another low valley, she comes upon the first trees. Nestled between the ever-present boulders, squat trunks with thick gnarled branches barren of leaves make a dark glade. Kara maneuvers her way between them and through the brown thorny scrub brush at their bases. A few odd shells block her path and when she kicks one, she recognizes the pattern on the outside. The oval shield shape is a hollowed-out remnant of a creature like the one that bit her.

Something killed it and cleaned the shell of all trace of it, which means there are larger predators. That sound in the cave hadn’t been her imagination.

Kara proceeds even more warily and spends more time checking the path before her, pledging to take no more refuge in open-ended caves.

On the other side of the valley, the ground flattens again, and the stream of smoke that was her star still rises but much closer. Now swirls of the breeze are visible in the smoke.

The fire is just over the next low ridge. She removes the helmet again, stashes it on its strap and secures it so it won’t make a sound. She doesn’t let herself think as she climbs the boulders, treading gingerly and using the spear for leverage.

The rage and hollow mourning return and she inches her head around the final rock between her and the other side, resting her spear beside her.

Fear drowns the rage when she looks below.

In the small canyon nestled in the crags, the source of the smoke is a fire fed by branches similar to the ones in the small wood on the way here. A pile of additional branches are stacked in the shadow of the crashed Luthorian cruiser.

Nothing stirs except the flames. No one is in sight, and – embarrassed at the afterthought -- Kara looks around to make sure no one is close to her position. Perhaps they had sentries, but it’s too late now to retreat.

The wan light of the fading day shines on the dark grey of the ship’s hull, glinting on the metallic and iridescent green markings. The Luthorian designations include a seal Kara has never seen before. The numbers are easily translated, but the letters shape words she doesn’t know.

The ship had crashed upside down, one wing still intact but buried along with half the body of the craft by rubble. The other wing, the one whose end Kara had shot with her last missile, is blackened and charred by battle and atmosphere.

Even wrecked, broken, and landbound, the ship is formidable, its silent guns and its unknown contents more of a threat than Kara’s condition. This is the closest she has ever been to the enemy of her people, to the regime that subjugated whole planets to its will, that murdered her parents and so many of others.

As she peers from the safety of the crevice she’s found, Kara is less driven to kill its occupants. Now she’s much more concerned about being captured by whoever is in that ship. Wounded, feverish, with only a landing strut as a weapon, she’ll be hard-pressed to kill anyone.

Kara flinches when the boarding door opens with a loud creak.

One figure climbs through the upside-down door and jumps to the ground. Clad in black with curves revealing her unmistakably female, she pulls the warped door closed behind her.

She appears tall when compared with the door she’s just exited, and some sort of fabric wraps around her head and shoulders hiding her face.

Alone, she approaches the fire and rotates a spit propped over it, whatever small game she’s found pierced by a metal strut.

Kara’s mouth waters at the aroma of cooking meat though she has no idea what kind of creature it might be. She can’t remember the last time she tasted fresh meat. Her saliva only serves to emphasize the dryness of her throat and swollen tongue.

Some of the sand in the small canyon swirls in the wind. The Luthorian wraps the loose fabric more tightly around her head, her back to Kara.

Kara raises her head to get a better look and tries to shift her position to one more comfortable for longer surveillance.

A rock beneath her foot slips and a small stream of scree tumbles away. She hisses in irritation.

The Luthorian turns her head in Kara’s direction.

Kara ducks and covers her mouth, praying to Rao that the sound of her breathing won’t reveal her location. She counts to fifty, then a hundred, hoping the Luthorian doesn’t investigate – or call for reinforcements.

A creak and a slam echo against the rocks. Kara counts again until she feels confident enough to slowly raise her head.

The Luthorian has disappeared along with the meat from the spit. The fire remains.

Kara’s stomach clenches at the thought of food, but there is nothing to be done. Not yet.

She waits and watches as night falls, but no one comes out again.


	7. CHAPTER 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara's plan for vengeance experiences a new setback. Her foe is somehow less (and yet more) formidable than she imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for all of you who have been (im)patiently waiting for Lena to show up. Oops, guess that’s a spoiler. OK MAYBE IT’S LENA, BUT MAYBE NOT. (It’s Lena.)

** CHAPTER 6 **

Come the cold light of dawn, Kara’s fate takes another turn. One moment she is sneaking around the rocks, trying to find a way to approach the Luthorian ship undetected.

The next, she’s confronted by the same figure she saw the previous day.

With a familiarity that suggests formidable skill, the Luthorian wields two weapons – a short sword with a matte black blade, and a menacing pulse pistol with a long barrel and a full charge indicator.

Kara’s makeshift spear is no match for either threat. Panic, hunger, thirst, fever, pain from her festering wounds, burgeoning terror of immediate execution – they all work against her as she takes the strut in both hands, sinks into what she hopes is a fighting stance, and shouts a wordless warning. Her movement is awkward, like an afterthought, as she points one end at the Luthorian.

The over-exertion depletes what little reserve she has left.

Kara faints.

X – X – X – X - X

When she wakes, she finds herself tied to the Luthorian ship.

Thick, wide black cargo straps, the kind used to strap down containers in transit, secure both wrists to the base of a gun turret. Since the craft is upside down and half-buried, the gun itself is underground, but the base is as wide as Kara’s body.

Without a knife to cut through the strap, the only escape might be to hang herself and even that would take immense effort.

Shock freezes Kara’s useless tugging when she sees the bandages on her wounds. Clean skin pokes from the edges of the bandage covering the bite on her leg. The wound on her hand has been wrapped as well.

She looks around in fear but she’s alone. How many are there? How did she not notice one of them touching her? Kara pulls at the restraints again until her skin burns.

A moment after she stops pulling, spent and weak and licking her dry lips, a lone figure appears on the far side of the small canyon.

It’s the same woman wearing the same clothes, her head still covered with some kind of patterned shawl. She’s pushing – rolling – a large boulder over the sandy ground. The mouth of the canyon is perhaps ten meters wide, and the Luthorian rolls the boulder over the distance until it joins a handful of similarly sized rocks at the base of one side of the canyon wall.

Kara tries not to move, not wanting to attract immediate attention. Her helmet and the landing strut she’d used for walking are nowhere in sight. It had been foolish to try to approach without more surveillance, but the smell of meat and the possibility of water had drawn her closer, and now…

Now she’s at the mercy of who knows how many --

Logic returns. The Luthorian woman is the only visible person in this canyon. No one is helping her move rocks and no one else is guarding Kara, which could mean no other crew lurks inside this vessel. This Luthorian might be alone and better odds of survival give Kara strength.

“Let me go!” She wants to yell but it comes out a dry croak.

The woman whirls around in Kara’s direction, short sword in hand, but sheathes the blade. She ignores Kara and instead abandons her current task to retrieve some branches from a small stockpile and adds them to the fire.

Kara seethes at the knowledge that she’s been perceived as no threat.

“Hey, you murderer! Untie me.”

The Luthorian turns to face Kara again. She wears some kind of eye protection beneath the shawl, and as she stalks closer -- threatening even though her hands are empty -- Kara twitches against the straps again.

The woman stops far outside kicking range. An alto voice dripping with disdain speaks a few sentences in Luthori.

Kara doesn’t understand any of the words except the last one.

“I’m not a thief,” Kara says, still in Kryptonian. She works what little saliva is in her mouth to spit but it only lands in her lap. “You’re a murderer and your people are nothing but fascist tyrants.”

All the Luthori she can think of is all about ship systems - labels of machinery or ship’s compartments, computer commands. Nothing that will let her communicate how much she wants to kill this woman.

“Warning.” She doesn’t care if she’s pronouncing it correctly though she’s frustrated that it’s not the right word. What’s the word for ‘kill’? “Death.” It’s as close as she can get.

No response. Kara wishes the Luthorian would take off the damned face cover so she can see any facial expression.

“Death!” Kara’s head pounds so much from dehydration she cries out. Energy spent, she sags against her restraints, perhaps a little relieved that she doesn’t have to hold herself up.

The Luthorian returns to her business, stoking the fire, then busies herself trimming meat she pulls from a sagging bag the size of Kara’s missing helmet. She skewers the meat on branches and props them over the low flames.

The smell of fresh cooking meat turns Kara’s already twisted guts into knots.

Her last act of defiance is to keep her painful moans to herself. Somehow, she’ll find a way to escape, and then this strange woman is as good as dead.

X – X – X – X - X

To add insult to injury, the Luthorian has a supply of clean water.

Kara mewls to herself as the Luthorian lifts a container to her mouth, revealing none of her face in the process. The glugging of consumption is hard to miss, and it snaps something in Kara to hear it. When the Luthorian restores the cap to the container she holds as she turns toward the ship, Kara swallows her pride.

“Water.” She winces when she remembers the language barrier and repeats her demand in Luthori instead of Kryptonian.

Her captor tilts her head as if trying to understand.

“Water.” Kara opens her mouth and smacks rudely even though the motion hurts her head and roils her stomach.

The Luthorian approaches in slow and measured steps, her water container in one hand.

The long wicked-looking black blade appears in the other.

Kara wriggles in futility against her restraints. Why treat her wounds and keep her captive for all this time? “You leave me here all day and now you’re just going to kill me?”

The terror rises inside her and she fights it with a brave front. “It’s a good thing you tied me up or I swear to Rao, I’d kill you with my bare hands.”

The statement gives her pause. Can she? Can she wrap her fingers around this strange woman’s throat and choke the life from her?

The question becomes moot as the woman comes closer. With dark grace, she raises the blade and presses its tip beneath Kara’s chin.

Kara’s heartbeat thunders in her ears, her breathing fast as she tries not to whine in the face of her imminent death. Though she trembles and her chest rises and falls with each jagged breath, she stays as still as possible.

What little dignity Kara has left won’t let her beg for her life.

Oddly, the blade feels warm as the Luthorian tilts Kara’s chin up with the tip. She raises the container beside Kara’s head.

“Water,” the woman says in Luthori, correcting Kara’s mispronunciation.

Kara is so shocked, the first drops miss her mouth and splash against her cheek. She chases them with her tongue but then more of the water makes it into her mouth. She sputters and swallows, choking but trying desperately not to cough the water back out.

Several gulps later, the flow stops. The Luthorian pulls the blade away, stashes it at her waist, and secures the container.

“No.” Kara stops herself before she adds a “please”.

The Luthorian mutters something Kara doesn’t understand but she finds herself thinking of the medical bay back on the _Alura._ The Luthori words remind her of a display in that section of the ship but the memory eludes her.

The Luthorian says nothing else and returns to her tasks.

Thirst slaked for the moment and all the fight scared out of her, Kara lets her head fall forward. She closes her eyes, relieved by the fading sound of the Luthorian’s steps as the woman walks away.

X – X – X – X - X

The next time she wakes, a steady drip of rain runs along the side of her head and pools in her ear. She curses as she shakes her head to the side to drain the water out.

It’s dark now, the firepit is smoking and the boarding door of the ship is closed.

Kara sits under the shelter of the Luthorian ship’s overturned wing, but she is not free of the elements. Something somewhere is broken enough to allow water to flow onto her head.

When she shifts her weight to try to wriggle herself further under cover, she feels something on the ground against her thigh. It’s a small disc of plastic, no bigger than her hand, its edges thick and rounded and a few small pieces of cooked meat in its center. Another charred morsel lies in the dirt. The water container from earlier is propped against the turret mounting nearby.

Kara wastes no time pondering why or what it means. She crams a piece in her mouth and chews so hard her jaw aches. The meat is tough and stringy, its flavor bitter and metallic but she chokes it down and fights the urge to puke it back up.

When the plate is empty, she plucks the lone morsel from the ground and blows the dirt off it before jamming it into her mouth.

The container is only a third full. She gulps the water down and curses the Luthorian for leaving her so little, deliberately ignoring the fact that the woman could have left her nothing at all. Or poisoned it, though it’s too late to do anything about that now unless Kara wants to let herself vomit.

She’s too wet to fall back asleep. Kara curls herself around her stomach, hoping to keep the distasteful food down, and forces herself to think only of how to get herself free.

X – X – X – X - X

The woman is lean but strong.

More than once, the Luthorian lifts the smaller boulders and sets them in place with a grunt. The wall slowly grows over the course of the next day, sectioning the canyon off into a type of fort. Considering the creature Kara saw, such fortifications are wise.

Just before the sun sets, the woman stands for a long moment muttering to herself on the far side of the fire with her back to the flame. Then she marks out a slow circle in the sand, two strides across.

When she’s finished, she kneels in the circle’s center, bares one arm and draws her blade.

Kara gasps when the Luthorian cuts a thin line in her own arm, just enough to make the blood bead. She raises the sword with both hands outstretched horizontally as high as her head and speaks aloud.

The Luthori words are measured, like a promise or an oath, and Kara doesn’t recognize any of them, but she knows ritual when she sees it.

When the woman finishes speaking, she lowers the blade, wipes it clean in the sand, rises and leaves the circle. She stomps out the line, erasing its existence, and then retreats to thrust her sword into the fire.

She does it again the next morning, and once again when the light is at its strongest around mid-day.

Kara has never seen anything like this odd ritual the Luthorian performs, and though she wants the woman dead, she can’t bring herself to interrupt when it happens.

No matter how much Kara protests, the woman doesn’t untie the restraints. When Kara searches for the knots holding the straps in place, she finds they’re somehow on the top of the capsized wing. The only way free would be to cut through the straps, and Kara lacks the means and the strength to attempt escape.

At dusk, the woman brings Kara food and water, ignores her protests, and then disappears inside the ship.

Kara is left with nothing but the sputtering fire for company.

X – X – X – X - X

Something wakes her. Defenseless and restrained, she fears one of the creatures is in the canyon. Frozen, she searches every dark shadow of the pre-dawn morning for movement.

A moment later, the branches holding the spit over the smoldering fire collapse. Scree shifts, rattling with a low hiss and rocks tumble into the canyon. One narrowly misses her head when it bounces over the ship and crashes to the ground.

An earthquake. The strong odor of sulfur assails her.

The quake intensifies and jars something loose on the ship. The ground beneath her shifts, and Kara ducks her head under her bound hands as if it isn’t futile. The ship shakes, rattling the turret enough that something creaks apart and then the earthquake lessens to a rumbling vibration.

A jagged shard of metal protrudes now from one side of the turret, sharp enough to cut bone.

Kara stares at it as if it might disappear.

The Luthorian is still inside the ship. Kara fits the width of the cargo strap against the jagged edge and with an urgency that borders on mania, she saws while trying not to make too much noise, trying not to cry out when her skin breaks.

The ground stops shaking, but the Luthorian doesn’t come outside.

The strap is now ragged enough to tear, and after a rough tug , Kara is free. She stands, knocking her head into the wing with a dull thud, and then shuffles forward though her legs cramp. Her spear is nowhere in sight and the container of water from her prisoner’s dinner is empty, but no matter.

She runs.

The walls of the canyon are too rugged to navigate in the pale light, so she sprints for the newly constructed wall and bounds over it. The other side is mostly sand, but she wants to remain unseen from the ship, so she aims for the shadows of more rocks and prays Rao will help her find cover.

She doesn’t get far before she comes to a dead-end, and then she hears a sound that stops her cold.

The manic chatter of movement swells nearby. She whirls towards it and moans in horror.

Five creatures like the one that attacked her slither toward her.

She backs against the rock face, unarmed and light-headed. When she tries to scramble up the rocks, she slips. Too weak to grab a boulder to save herself from falling, Kara crashes on her side in the sandy ground.

They close in, intent on their prey, pincers clicking and threatening torment.

A savage cry sounds from above and behind Kara and the Luthorian drops to the ground right in front of her. With her back to Kara, she raises her short sword and her pulse pistol.

The woman shoots four of the creatures in rapid succession, red bursts of fire stabbing through their outer shells and killing them instantly. She holsters her weapon on the outside of one thigh and shifts her grip on her sword to two hands.

She kicks one of the dead creatures aside to clear her path to her remaining foe. Down to one immediate threat, she stomps on one pincer and stabs it in the mouth, then kicks it over onto its back with a grunt. Several rapid stabs into its exposed midsection kill it.

By the time Kara recovers enough to sit upright, the Luthorian has lined up the corpses side by side as if preparing them for transport.

She turns towards Kara. The shawl has come loose, revealing the shocking beauty of her face.

Too mesmerized to stand, Kara stares at her unexpected rescuer. Her fear drowns in the wake of something new, something indescribable.

The Luthorian towers over her but without malice. Delicate dark brows and thick hair frame a majestic face with symmetric features and regal cheekbones and jawline. The pale light of morning glints in intelligent green eyes.

Her sword is still in hand. It drips blood and gore, the spatters loud in the sand.

Kara can’t catch her breath and is helpless to move under the woman’s glare.

The Luthorian raises her sword to point back towards the ship.

“Food and water,” she says in crisp Luthori. She waves her other arm at the open terrain of the opposite direction. “Death.”

Then she points at Kara and says words Kara doesn’t know but understands. She can try to make it on her own with no resources or she can return to the slim chance of survival in the canyon with her enemy.

The woman turns her back and focuses on the dead creatures, leaving Kara to decide.

And though she still trembles from yet another near-death experience, Kara pretends it’s a difficult choice, but not for long.

When the Luthorian leaves, dragging her gruesome bounty behind her with yet another cargo strap, Kara banks her hate, swallows her pride and her vengeance, and limps back the way she came.


	8. CHAPTER 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Kara learns more about the mysterious Luthorian woman who holds her captive, she wrestles with the warring needs of vengeance…and survival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/TW: general gore.

** CHAPTER 7 **

Kara’s vision blurs when she puts weight on her wounded leg. In the haste of her escape, she’s ripped open the half-formed scab over the bite. It burns with her movement and stings with her sweat.

By the time she returns to the canyon, the Luthorian has stashed her kills and stands near a half-collapsed section of the wall she built. The earthquake knocked several boulders out of place, and considering how long it took to build it, it will take a few hours for repairs.

Kara stops, unsure of what happens next, but she has her answer when the Luthorian draws her pulse pistol.

The woman says nothing as she once again secures Kara to the ship - this time closer to the boarding door but nowhere near the jagged metal of the broken turret. Kara is still under cover, but she’s even more limited than she was before.

No matter how much Kara curses and argues, the Luthorian ignores her. For the rest of the morning, the woman repairs the wall until it’s restored. After a break for her mid-day ritual, she tends to the creature corpses, carving and stripping each beast into slowly growing piles of meat, entrails, pincers and shells.

What little is left gets tossed into the fire.

Kara’s cursing lessens over the course of the afternoon as she watches the grisly slaughter, fighting the urge to vomit when the wind shifts and blows the potent odor of the corpses her way.

The Luthorian’s face remains blank as she works. She is tireless, focused on her task until it is complete. Then she turns her attention to the piles. The shells are propped near the fire, one of them in the flames themselves as if to burn off the blood and remaining flesh. The pincers are spread out in a line to dry in the sun. The meat is transferred to an odd bag and carried inside the ship.

When the woman reappears, she pauses before the last pile and her shoulders rise and fall with the depth of her breath.

Kara counts five breaths before the woman moves again. The Luthorian’s expression doesn’t change as she sinks her hands into the entrails, pulls out a long strip of viscera and stretches it wide in her hands.

Kara looks away and swallows bile.

That Luthorians are bloodthirsty and cruel is no surprise, but to see such indifference to carnage up close – to see black blood splash on the woman’s arresting face without generating so much as a twitch…it turns Kara’s stomach.

In her more hopeful moments, she had let herself believe that - since the woman is alone - Kara might still find a way to kill her. If Kara can rest and heal, perhaps they might be more evenly matched.

This ghastly display makes it clear that Kara’s opponent is far more experienced with the dark art of murder.

When Kara looks back, the woman has stretched lines of guts along the far end of the overturned ship’s wing, strips of beastly insides laid to dry in the wan sunlight.

The icy fear is back, slithering in the sweat on Kara’s spine.

X – X – X – X - X

For the next two days and nights, the Luthorian restrains Kara’s hands and feet during the day lest she try again to escape. She gives Kara food and water at morning and late afternoon, and tosses her fresh bandages for her leg, but otherwise ignores her, no matter what Kara says.

At night, though, the woman only secures Kara’s feet, and leaves her a sharpened stick for defense. The ties are too thick and substantial for the stick to penetrate so escape is impossible to accomplish overnight.

The implication is clear – Kara is still a prisoner, but the Luthorian won’t leave her defenseless to be eaten by the creatures of this moon.

Kara pretends it’s not a small kindness and grumbles even when she lacks the energy to give it any fire.

During the day, when the Luthorian isn’t performing her strange ritual, she disappears. When she returns, she brings firewood and more dead creatures. She’s collecting far more meat than they’re consuming and takes the surplus into the ship, but Kara isn’t sure why.

The questions haunt her as her condition improves. Her wound scabs over. The horrid meat restores her energy enough to complain about its taste. The woman has increased Kara’s water ration, but that doesn’t stop Kara from glugging it all down whenever it’s provided.

What if more Luthorians come? What if this woman is holding her hostage until Kara can be taken into custody?

If Kara could only summon the courage to kill her, perhaps she can use this woman’s ship to communicate with her own people. Some of the systems must be working since the woman daily cleans all trace of the day’s kills from her hands and clothes. The EMP may not have wiped out everything.

When the woman demonstrates her martial skill, either with her ritual or with the kills she’s stacking up every day, Kara is not so sure she’ll be able to gain the upper hand. It’s smart to bide her time before makes any attempt.

Or so she tells herself.

In any case, sooner or later, the woman has to kill Kara or let her go. She can’t keep Kara prisoner forever, can she?

And on the tail of that thought comes another: are they stuck here forever?

On the third afternoon, when the Luthorian disappears into the bowels of her cruiser with the day’s catch, Kara sighs and contemplates negotiating for her release. What she’ll do with her freedom besides attempting to kill the woman, she doesn’t know.

Something hits the ground and Kara looks up, searching for those damned creatures again but there’s nothing.

Another contact sounds and this time she searches the sky. No clouds in sight, no sandstorm, nothing…and then a yellow-red ball of flame with an inky black tail smoking behind it flies across the canyon and collides into a rock wall.

A meteor.

Another appears, followed by a pair and Kara leaps to her feet with a cry.

Two more fire into the canyon, so hot and so fast they cut through a thinner portion of the wing like a blade and crater the ground where they fall.

She’s not safe under this wing. The meteors are small but hit hard enough to pock the greater hull of the ship, which means they’ll likely cave in her brain pan if one hits her in the head. Still, they don’t seem to have broken the main part of the ship, so the safest place for her is inside.

Inside with the merciless Luthorian.

It’s a brief argument in her head with only one possible solution. Kara hops as best as she can towards the door, covering her head with her tied arms even though it’s futile, her eyes on the skies searching for imminent threats.

“Let me in!” She hunches her head against the ship, bangs on the door with a closed fist, but her pounding barely reverberates against the thick metal and she wonders if it can be heard inside. More meteors land and she realizes they’re coming faster. “Rao take you, open the cursed door!”

It seems like she stands there forever, hissing when a hot piece of detritus grazes her arm. Around her, stones big and small hiss and burn when they hit the sand, clatter on the stone. Her luck won’t last long.

Her demands devolve into wordless screams and when the door opens, she falls inside to safety, her secured feet tripping her and keeping her from catching her footing. She smacks her head against a bulkhead, but barely notices the pain.

The Luthorian is just inside the door, head covered by her shawl. When Kara maneuvers her way to her feet inside the dark of the ship, she can make out the familiar black blade raised at her chest, but Kara considers this known threat easier to handle than the meteors outside.

“Look,” she says, suddenly wishing she knew more Luthori. She gestures outside with her tied hands, and the Luthorian turns her head in that direction.

To Kara’s surprise, the Luthorian forgets about her altogether and lowers the face covering to get a clearer look at the threat. It falls below her chin and halfway down the back of her head, and Kara gets a closer look at her enemy and captor.

The rich green eyes are deeper set than Kara first thought, but not in an unattractive way. The Luthorian’s black wavy hair is thick and long enough that strands of it fall past the covering to the middle of her back. Her nose has a delicate elegant curve, and there’s not a single blemish on her pale skin.

She is as beautiful as she is deadly. It takes longer than Kara likes for the hatred and horror she’s felt so powerfully for the last few days to resurface.

With a sort of reverent fear, the woman says something that Kara doesn’t understand, her voice softer than Kara’s ever heard. A meteor slams into the side of the ship mere inches from the door and the Luthorian - who Kara has never seen show a bit of trepidation - jumps in fright and slams the door closed. It pinches the lead securing Kara’s feet.

They pant in the darkness until Kara’s vision adjusts to the low light. And there is light – an orange hue that blanches the color from the Luthorian’s eyes and reflects off the blade once again raised in Kara’s direction.

She says something that Kara can’t directly translate but understands anyway - play nice or suffer the consequences. With a frown and a sigh, Kara nods. Unless she wants to go back outside with the meteors - and at that moment, another one hits hard enough to make them both cringe - she’ll have to follow orders.

The Luthorian uses her blade to slice through the binds at her feet, leaving the trailing end stuck in the closed door. With a low prod that doesn’t actually touch Kara’s body, the Luthorian gestures deeper into the ship. Her eyes are more wary than threatening, and Kara recognizes the truce for what it is. She’ll be allowed to stay if she doesn’t try to do anything foolish - like an attempt to overpower her host.

Kara steps gingerly along the narrow corridor to an interior doorway and over its upside-down boundary. Inside she sees the path to the cockpit, and at the other end, smaller quarters, a galley and something that looks like it might be a fully loaded cargo bay. The cruiser is outfitted like a fighter but one for longer voyages between incursions. Perhaps it was designed to survive on its own, without a larger ship for docking and resupply.

The woman points into a corner, gesturing more than once and barking orders Kara can’t translate but she understands the gist. Warily, Kara takes a seat and shifts her weight until she finds a comfortable position to lean against the bulkhead.

The Luthorian moves a few supplies away from Kara’s reach - not that she could do much with her hands still tied - and while she does, Kara takes another look at her surroundings.

Though the ship is upside down, her captor has adapted. A makeshift bunk is tucked into a corner of the former ceiling, and collected supplies are stacked along one bulkhead of the adapted floor.

The Luthorian’s ship is in better shape than Kara’s burnt-out fighter, but not by much. None of the ship’s systems are active except for the orange emergency lights.

With cold clarity, the truth reveals itself.

The Luthorian is just as isolated from her people as Kara is from her own. On the one hand, the Luthorian can’t call for reinforcements, but on the other, Kara can’t use the system to signal the Kryptonians.

They are stranded and lost, and there is little chance anyone will ever find either one of them.

Even if Kara – impossibly - finds a way to kill this woman, she will live the rest of her no doubt very short life alone. If she sacrifices her vengeance and strikes out on her own, the same is true - and she’ll have to figure out how to do that with no resources beyond sticks and rocks and a life in a cave.

Her only other choice is to find a way to accept this Luthorian as some kind of ally and for them to forge into uncertainty together. 

Kara pushes the immediate image of Alex’s face from her mind. Is it cowardice at her inability to exact vengeance, or desperation at her circumstances that lets her do it?

And yet, despite the deaths the woman has caused and her brutal skills, the Luthorian saved Kara’s life in more ways than one. Without her, Kara would have been dead three times over - from dehydration and hunger, from the infection of her wounds, from the creatures that had nearly eaten her alive.

The woman sits sideways in her makeshift bunk instead of lying down. She leans against the bulkhead with her eyes closed, and the fatigue is sharp in her features.

Her weapons aside, the Luthorian looks more exhausted and desperate than feral and murderous.

Kara must find a way to communicate, though, or they’re not going to get anywhere.

“What’s your name?”

The Luthorian’s eyes snap open and she clenches her hand on her pulse pistol though she doesn’t raise it.

Kara heart rate spikes, but then she realizes the Luthorian has never responded to Kara’s curses and threats. Perhaps the woman doesn’t know a word of Kryptonian.

“Pilot…designation,” Kara says instead in Luthori, pointing at her captor.

The woman frowns but she doesn’t speak.

Kara sighs and points to herself. “Kara.” Then she points back at the Luthorian. “Designation?” It’s the closest word she can think of from the programming she’s seen on the stolen Luthorian vessel that became the _Alura._

Another meteor crashes into hull on the far end of the cockpit, and they both look in that direction before the Luthorian sighs. She scoots herself into a more erect position and lays her pulse pistol beside her within easy reach. With a glance at Kara to make her point clear, she rests her blade on her lap.

She stares at Kara, and Kara forces herself not to look away.

“Lena,” the woman says, but stops though it looks like she planned to say more.

Then she doesn’t speak again no matter what Kara asks her.

Sometime after full dark, the meteor shower slows, but neither of them moves. At some point, the Luthorian falls asleep, her hands still taut on her weapons though her shoulders sag.

For the first time since the crash of her arrival, Kara relaxes. When she closes her eyes, the slow even rhythm of the Luthorian’s breathing lulls her to sleep.


	9. CHAPTER 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara navigates the uneasy truce with Lena, her captor, and finds an unwelcome mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW! AN EARLY UPDATE! I couldn't wait until Thursday and had to post this now. 
> 
> CW/TW: cutting, fetishized self-harm. (I tried to find a better word than “fetishized” because it’s not sexual or arousing or titillating in any way, but that was the closest literal definition that fit.)

** CHAPTER 8 **

_Day 12_

When Kara wakes, she has shifted in her sleep. She sits with her side leaning against the bulkhead, her head tipped at an odd angle. Her arms and shoulders are stiff from being secured in an awkward position, her wounds throb in time with her heartbeat, her head pounds because she never seems to get enough water, and her stomach growls.

And then she remembers where she is.

Without moving her body or head, Kara takes in her surroundings. The interior of the ship is warm, almost uncomfortably so, and sticky perspiration coats her skin when she shifts her weight.

Her movement rattles something loose near her foot and the Luthorian - Lena, Kara remembers - twitches awake. Kara stills as the weapon she saw burn a hole in the scuttling creatures as wide as her fist is now raised at her head.

Slowly, Kara lifts her bound hands. “Can’t really do anything to you with my hands tied.” She hopes Lena understands even if they don’t speak the same language.

With barely hidden embarrassment at jumping to conclusions, Lena lowers the pulse pistol. “Water?” she asks in her low alto.

“Yes,” Kara says in Luthori, and bites her tongue before she can add a “please” in Kryptonian.

Eventually, Lena maneuvers them outside, and they take in the aftermath of the meteor shower.

A few of the larger meteors still smoke around the periphery of the canyon, though one narrowly missed the ship. It lies in a crater of its own making, steam rising into the thick warm air that hints of an impending rainstorm.

Lena sighs at the damage, but Kara thinks the ship wasn’t going anywhere anyway so the destruction is meaningless.

The shawl her captor wears around her head doesn’t cover her face now, and Kara isn’t sure what to make of that. Lena still secures Kara under the ship’s broken wing - now even more damaged thanks to the meteors - despite Kara’s protests that she won’t do anything to try to escape or to damage the ship.

Lena does the chores that always seem to occupy her attention, brings Kara food and water without comment, performs her odd ritual at the usual times. The rain arrives and at sundown, Lena ties Kara to the ship and tosses her the pointed stick again, despite Kara’s grumbling.

Kara tries calling Lena by her name but stops herself from pleading. The door of the ship closes with a resounding thud, and Kara searches for a spot that isn’t beneath one of the leaking holes or in a puddle of collected runoff. She props herself against the hull of the ship, but its angles and protruding sensors provide no comfort.

If she somehow managed to get free, could she actually kill the Luthorian now? The urge to kill her enemy is waning. Kara is more focused on the here and now, and the _Alura_ is very far away. It hurts too much to let herself think of the circumstances that drove her to consider murder in the first place.

Hours later, Lena reappears. She stares at Kara for several long, uncomfortable minutes before she beckons with her blade and points to the open door.

Once again, Kara’s hands are left bound and she is directed to sit in the same place across from Lena’s improvised bed.

The day ends much the same way as it began, with Kara trying to adapt to her awkward position and Lena poised to shoot her if she so much as twitches.

_Day 13_

“You don’t have to tie me up,” Kara says the next evening in her own language. She thinks Lena doesn’t understand her, but the cool intelligence in those green eyes makes her wonder sometimes.

It’s not quite full dark, but Lena has banked the fire for the night and untied Kara from her posted incarceration. They’re inside the Luthorian vessel and Lena is waving her pulse pistol in the direction of Kara’s designated section.

Kara is too tired after the surprising heat of the day to sleep against the damned wall and wants to stretch out, even if it’s on the floor.

She opens her hands, holds them spread wide in a disarming manner. Kara thinks hard, trying to remember any Luthori that might help make her point, but gives up and strives instead to speak in a calm, reassuring tone. “I’m not going to try anything. Really.”

No response.

“No target,” she says in Lena’s language.

Lena is taken aback, almost alarmed, so those words don’t convey the meaning Kara intends.

She tries again. “No…danger.”

This time, Lena gets it, but she only stares at Kara as if taking her measure.

They stare so long at each other, Kara starts to itch, but she knows this is too important a moment to try to break the tension before Lena is ready.

Finally, Lena steps back, eases down to her usual position, and sets the bindings aside.

The simple action speaks volumes. This woman won’t kill Kara in her sleep, having had at least a dozen opportunities so far. No, Kara is the one who needs to prove herself and suddenly it’s very important that she does.

Kara sits down as well.

With exaggerated slowness, she then stretches her body along the adapted floor while maintaining eye contact.

Lena doesn’t so much as blink, and she doesn’t lower her weapon either.

And then Kara rolls over to face the wall, her back to Lena, hoping the action is clear. Hoping Lena understands Kara isn’t a threat.

Kara doesn’t fall asleep right away, so she knows it’s a long time before Lena rustles in a way that suggests she’s lowered her weapon.

Kara’s eyes are closed and she’s almost asleep when she hears the low sound of a delicate snore.

It’s not much, but it’s a start.

_Day 19_

The uneasy truce continues, and Lena stops tying Kara up like a prisoner, but she still draws her pistol every time Kara moves in an unexpected direction.

Kara says “no danger” every time it happens and the facial expression she makes when she says it has changed from a placating blankness to an annoyed irritation that Lena still doesn’t trust her.

She chooses to forget why Lena might feel that way and why she shouldn’t trust Lena at all.

And so a new rhythm grows, one where they find ways to endure the days while they grow more accustomed to one another. Lena’s ship has a way to purify water that wasn’t affected by the EMP. After some trial and error, they find some roots in the scrub brush that are edible. Lena hunts to supplement the vegetables, Kara assists, and they both prepare the food. Most of their communication is through gesture since they can barely converse. Every night, they eat, clean up for the day and then go their separate ways until dark.

The ebb and flow of the passing of days doesn’t change much until one day it does.

Kara climbs atop the broken wing of the ship and sits in a spot untouched by meteor scores. When the loneliness of her predicament and the strangeness of her ill at ease ally drive her into a darkness of sorts, she finds some soothing in the alien sunset of the distant pale star.

Lena walks to the same place in the canyon to perform her ritual. After the first few times, Kara began to feel as if she was intruding on something sacred and personal in the rite. It feels rude and somehow sacrilegious to watch Lena, even though Kara has no idea what the ritual means. When Lena begins to draw the circle in the sand, Kara turns her attention elsewhere until she hears the telltale scrubbing out of the circle that signifies the ritual’s completion.

Yet today, some sound makes her turn to look.

From this angle, Kara sees Lena sideways. Lena, too, faces the setting star, and the wind has blown her shawl from her head to her shoulders.

A track of wet skin mars the pattern of dirt and dust on Lena’s face, made yet again when a tear falls down her cheek. Then Lena sinks gracelessly to her knees.

She fights sobs but then gives in. Her whole body shakes with them, though the sound isn’t strong enough to carry through the wind.

Kara thinks she’s not supposed to notice, but she can’t look away.

Lena chokes out her ritual’s words through the sobs, but though her speech is stilted, her posture doesn’t falter. She handles her blade as steadily and true as Kara has seen before, and when Lena cuts across the skin of her arm, Kara can see the lines of similar scars.

Lena raises the blade to the sky, and then the sobs shake her frame once more. She slices across her arm again and raises the blade, speaking words Kara can’t hear clearly and probably wouldn’t understand.

Lena cuts a third time, as if the ritual is meant to call something forth but fails.

As she raises the bloodstained blade once more, Lena speaks a last time until her voice devolves into something like a wail.

It’s this cry that finally pierces the wind and carries to Kara’s ears. The sound is gut-wrenching.

Kara’s heart aches and when her vision blurs to her surprise, she blinks at the tears as she forces her gaze away.

Isolation and a fight for survival are not the only things she shares with Lena. So too does she share heartbroken desolation at their fate.

When Kara makes her way to her newly established bunk space in the ship, she can’t look at Lena, afraid that with one good look at Kara’s face, Lena will know Kara saw everything.

Kara’s not sure what to say - if she should apologize or ignore the whole thing altogether. She’s not sure she’s ready to offer any kind of solace.

What she knows for certain is that she feels a deeper ache, a question she can’t phrase within herself and an answer that eludes her.

She faces the wall and closes her eyes, unsettled by the understanding that while an immense chasm looms between them, the woman on the other side is just as human as she is, and just as alone.


	10. CHAPTER 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the weeks pass, the unstable truce between Kara and Lena is tested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is *not* a repost of yesterday’s content. It’s an all-new chapter! 
> 
> Is there some law that says I shouldn’t update again so soon? I don’t know why I’m suddenly hell-bent-for-leather (3 updates in 6 days), but hope you enjoy the rapid updates while they last!

** CHAPTER 9 **

_Day 35_

“I can’t move the rock,” Kara says in Luthori. “My feet are cold.”

Another quake has knocked a few boulders loose from the canyon border wall. Lena stops what she’s doing and looks at Kara’s feet then stares at Kara in confusion. “Your feet?”

“Yes!” Kara shakes her hands against the morning chill and then blows on them to try to warm them with her breath.

Lena tilts her head, and the confusion turns into something like amusement though she doesn’t smile. “Your hands. Your hands are cold.”

Kara curses in her own language, embarrassed at having chosen the wrong word again. “Yes, hands,” she says in corrected Luthori.

It’s been like this for days. Kara keeps trying, though, to learn more of Lena’s language. Kara doesn’t offer to teach Lena Kryptonian. Lena hasn’t asked, but it doesn’t matter if she does - Kara won’t share those parts of herself with Lena.

Perhaps it’s her own guilt that stops her. She’s set aside vengeance for her friends because she’s too scared to attempt to handle this moon on her own.

_Day 42_

_“_ This…catches the water and cleans the dirt?” Kara stands with her dirty hands on the equally dirty hips of her flight suit and stares.

While most of the ship’s systems are fried, a few features remain. Emergency lighting, water filtration, the charger for Lena’s pistol, a basic robot that performs some function Kara doesn’t understand – all of it helps in some way to aid their survival. Lena, though, has fashioned a secondary water filtration system outside the aft bay door of her ship.

Some component in it is powered by solar, so as long as it doesn’t suffer any damage, they’ll always have clean water.

“The rain comes here.” Lena points near the top to a section of warped sheeting she’s repurposed from some of the items in her cargo bay. She says some words Kara doesn’t yet understand before she makes sense again. “Then the water comes out here. It isn’t much, but if the primary fails, it’s enough to keep us from dying of thirst.”

What Kara notices is that it’s not portable, which means they’re still very dependent on the ship itself. If they get hit with more meteors, this system is at risk.

“We must make it…safe…from fire rocks in the sky.” Kara knows she speaks Luthori like a child, but it beats not being able to communicate at all. Lena doesn’t mock her for it. Though Kara never says so, she’s grateful.

_Day 47_

The weather has turned cooler, but Kara wakes to a warm sticky feeling against her skin and an even stickier one between her thighs. The familiar ache in her abdomen is long overdue considering how long she’s been on this rock, and the lack of supplies to handle her condition sparks her anger.

Though this is something they have in common, she absolutely does not want to talk to Lena about this but can’t define why.

Lena is already outside, and Kara is somewhat relieved. Her own body odor reaches her nose, and she frowns in irritation. These close quarters are inefficiently ventilated, and the space stinks of them. If she doesn’t figure out a way to bathe her whole body, she’ll go mad.

She stomps outside to the rain catch and dunks a container into the makeshift barrel – another repurposed cargo item - with the intent of giving herself a hand bath.

“We need to ration that,” Lena says, her voice flat.

Kara doesn’t look at her. “Need to clean.”

“We don’t know when it will rain again.”

“I don’t care,” Kara says in Kryptonian, too irritated to try to translate.

“Kara, this is a bad idea --“

Maybe it’s the sound of her name, which Lena has never before spoken. Maybe it’s the blood she can feel leaking down her thighs, but it’s all too much.

With a roar, Kara drops the container, though she’s secretly relieved that it doesn’t spill, and grabs her spear from where it’s propped nearby. In the time it takes her to flip it and aim at Lena, Lena has already drawn both her weapons.

They stare at each other, but neither of them moves.

Though Kara breathes heavily enough to cause more sweat to break out on her skin, she doesn’t attack. She knows she’s being foolish, but she can’t seem to rein in her anger.

Finally, she tilts her spear away from Lena. She doesn’t bother pouring the water back in the barrel but leaves it on the ground and walks away.

They keep a distance between them for most of the day. That night, embarrassed but still angry, Kara cooks dinner even though it’s Lena’s turn. Without a word, she sets Lena’s plate on her customary seat next to the fire and focuses on her own food. Lena comes to the fire pit, and they eat without speaking.

The truce still stands between them, but what little peace they’d achieved is gone. When they go to bed that night, a long time passes before Kara falls asleep.

_Day 50_

They haven’t spoken in days.

Kara doesn’t know what to say, but she decides that they can’t keep living like this, doing nothing but hunting and eating the disgusting carcasses of repulsive beasts and growing more unclean by the day. They’ll go mad and kill each other.

She chooses to ignore the irony.

On the third morning after their tense confrontation, Kara fills one of the more portable containers and grabs her spear while Lena watches silently. Kara isn’t sure what to say either, so she just leaves.

She picks a new direction, different from the one she originally approached from and not the path she took when she tried to escape.

This time, she walks toward the rising star.

She explores for hours, doing her best to keep a straight line. When she reaches a new vantage point, she makes a small pile of fist-sized rocks to mark her passing.

Not long after daylight’s peak, she stacks a larger pile and then heads back. There’s not much but more canyons on this trajectory, but now she knows for sure.

When she gets back to the canyon, Lena looks surprised. Perhaps she wasn’t expecting Kara to return.

Kara joins Lena by the fire and gingerly picks a piece of meat from the spit. After she blows on it to cool, then chews and swallows it down, she points in the direction she traveled that day.

“More canyons. No water, no trees. No shield-backs. Only canyons and rock.”

After a moment, Lena nods.

They don’t speak again, but some of the tension is gone.

For the next few days, Kara repeats her expeditions, choosing another course so she can learn more about the areas around them.

One day, after about half a day’s walk with the morning sun behind her, she finds a small forest of the gnarled trees, this one denser than the one she’s already seen. Another day, Kara nearly falls into one of the gaseous caverns and decides she should be a bit less adventurous while she’s on her own, but she persists in her explorations.

Her caution serves her well the next day when she travels on one of the slant trajectories. She finds a nest of the shield-back creatures and doesn’t venture past them, returning early that day to report its location to Lena.

Lena doesn’t say anything, but nods in understanding and spends that evening sharpening her sword.

_Day 58_

Kara’s anger fades. In retrospect, much of her frustration comes from being limited to the canyon when she’s used to traveling throughout the fleet, and from being unclean, constantly clad in a filthy flight suit that is long past disgusting.

Dried blood, both her own and from creatures who have met their demise, splatters over one arm, both knees and the area around the tear where the first creature bit her. Dirt from the rocks, mud from the rain, grease from the meat she’s eaten, her own sweat -- it’s all turned the formerly white flight suit a slimy brown that matches the grime against her own skin.

She’s so focused on keeping herself upwind of her own smell and watching out for creatures that might attack her, she nearly that walks into the water before it registers her attention.

She stares at the small lake for a long while, wondering if she’s imagining it. It’s gray, a reflection of the clouds overhead, and she can’t see too deeply into the middle, but the shallows near her feet are clear enough.

Kara pokes into its depths with the spear, just to make sure some hideous creature isn’t lurking to eat her the moment she lets her guard down. And then, with a last long look at the periphery to verify nothing is sneaking up on her, she drops to her knees, sets down her cargo, and unfastens her flight suit to her waist.

She can’t help but smile as she takes handfuls of the water and washes her face, her hair, her arms and chest and everything from her navel up - everywhere she can reach. She tries not to get her flight suit too wet, or her boots, but it feels good to clean some of the dirt and sweat from her body even if she doesn’t have any soap.

She’s almost happy when she heads back. Perhaps she doesn’t smell much better, but she feels better, and she’s glad to have found a water source. They won’t be dependent on rainfall for hydration if the ship system fails. She thinks Lena might be pleased to hear the news, but the camp is empty when she gets back.

By sunset, Lena still hasn’t returned.

Kara takes her usual seat on the wing of the ship but grows more unsettled when Lena doesn’t appear. The woman has an internal clock that never lets her miss her sunset ritual, and as the fire throws longer shadows across the canyon, Kara realizes what she feels is worry.

She leaps down from the ship to add some wood to the fire when a bloodcurdling scream sounds from outside the canyon.

Without thought, Kara races towards its eerie echoes.


	11. CHAPTER 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and Lena encounter a deadly reminder of their hostile environment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you’ve been following the weekly updates, BEWARE! This is my third (!) update since last Thursday. Be sure to check your progress so you don’t read anything out of order.
> 
> CW/TW: Wound gore. I’m not a medical professional, and I have no intention of researching proper wound care because *eww* so you’re just gonna have to suspend some disbelief, just like we’re pretending these two wouldn’t be dead from microbial ick the moment they tried to breathe or drink water on this moon.
> 
> Huge shout-out to those of you sticking with this one. I’m so grateful.

** CHAPTER 10 **

Kara runs toward the screaming, but she doesn’t see Lena anywhere. What light remains of dusk lets her see well enough to traverse the terrain, and she follows the screams to their source.

A broad crevice scars the ground, one she’d encountered a few days ago when she traveled in this direction. In an instant, Kara sees the peril Lena faces.

Lena has fallen into a pit Kara circumvented in her own explorations. Wide and deep, the pit has slick, smooth walls and a sand-filled bottom. The bloody shells of shield-backs litter the ground. No other traces of the corpses remain.

The walls of the pit slope at an angle that Lena must have found impossible to escape, and even as Kara watches, one leg scrambles unsuccessfully to gain purchase. Lena can’t leverage her way up.

Her other leg is taut, its clothing torn and soaked with blood as a long reddish-brown tentacle of some creature hidden beneath the sand tries to pull Lena down. The tentacle is as thick around as Kara’s wrist, and something sharp or toxic must be attached to its end if Lena’s cries are any indication.

Lena clings with one hand to a protruded root that sticks out beyond the rim of the pit. Her other hand holds her pulse pistol, but it’s not doing her any good. She can’t get a clean shot without risking damage to her own leg. No other part of the creature is revealed.

She fires again, but it goes wild and seems to only anger the unseen creature. Another jerk of the tentacle tears more flesh around Lena’s leg, exposing bone, and her fingers slip on the root she grasps for survival. That she’s still hanging on despite what must be agonizing pain is astonishing.

Kara throws herself on the ground, flat at the edge of the pit, and reaches down for Lena’s hand.

“Lena!”

Her eyes glazed and wild, Lena looks shocked that Kara has appeared. Kara grabs her wrist and tries to pull her up, but it only stretches Lena between rescue and the creature, and the flesh of Lena’s leg pays the price. She screams again, this time more in pain than in fear.

Lena shoots again and accomplishes nothing.

Kara thinks quickly. “Give me the pistol, Lena. I’ll shoot it myself.”

Lena doesn’t respond and Kara realizes she’s spoken again in Kryptonian. She can’t think of words to convey her meaning, though, and Lena doesn’t have time for Kara to figure it out.

“Lena.” Kara beckons at the weapon with her free hand.

The fear she receives in return angers and saddens her.

“I won’t hurt you,” she says as calmly as she can, hoping her tone can communicate what her limited vocabulary cannot. And then she says something she’s never said before and swore she never would. “Please.”

Even if Lena doesn’t know Kara’s language, she seems to understand the meaning. With a grunt that morphs into another pained cry when the creature tugs again, she stretches her other arm to Kara and relinquishes the pulse pistol.

Kara’s first shot misses, but she corrects after shifting her weight, all the while trying not to let go of Lena’s arm.

The second connects and only makes the creature angrier. Lena’s flesh tears and it turns Kara’s stomach.

Kara takes a deep breath and lets it out, stills herself as best as she can despite Lena’s shrill screams, and fires again. The shots puncture well enough that the next tug from the creature severs its own tentacle.

Relief fades quickly and Kara puts the weapon down then scrambles to pull Lena free.

No sooner has Lena collapsed beside her than the sound of whispering sand reaches them. Kara sees the new threat before Lena does. She grabs the pistol, throws herself over Lena’s body to protect her, and aims at a wide reptilian head – more than the width of their bodies combined – that rises from the sand and lurches toward them at the edge of the pit. It has four giant eyes, two fist-sized and two the size of Kara’s head, and its mouth gapes to reveal endless jagged teeth.

Kara shoots at the eyes of the thing, screaming herself, until she does enough damage that it pulls back, wailing in a loud terrifying screech. She fires until it stops moving.

Her hand trembles but she doesn’t lower the pistol until she’s certain it’s dead. All she hears is her heartbeat until a muffled moan captures her attention.

Lena stares at the monster’s corpse, eyes shadowed by her own narrowly avoided death and what must be excruciating pain. When she looks at Kara, there’s wariness mixed in with her relief. She glances at the weapon Kara is still holding.

The flash of anger through Kara is powerful but dissipates so quickly, she trembles with it. Or perhaps it’s just adrenaline from the fight.

Kara looks Lena in the eyes as she makes a point of putting the weapon back in Lena’s hand.

They need to get back to the ship and quickly, not just because Lena’s wound needs tending. It’s almost dark, and they’re not far from camp, but the short journey won’t be easy.

Lena can’t put any weight on her injured leg. Looking at it, Kara doesn’t blame her. Kara leans over to remove the remains of the tentacle, but Lena stops her and says more words she doesn’t understand.

Kara’s confusion must show.

“Fire, and – and water,” Lena says, her voice breathy and pained.

They find a way to walk that is slow but effective, Lena leaning on Kara and shifting her weight forward while Kara carries the bag Lena must have dropped when she fell in the pit. Walking must be agony, but Lena bites back any sounds. Perhaps it’s stubbornness, but Kara only senses a persistence in doing what must be done.

When Lena falters, nearly collapsing to the ground, Kara stops.

“You’re going to have to let me carry you,” she says, knowing she’s not understood. She gives Lena back her bag, and then - telegraphing her movement as slowly as she can so Lena doesn’t misinterpret her actions - she lifts Lena into her arms.

Lena doesn’t say anything, but the gratitude in her eyes is loud enough.

This is the closest the two of them have ever been, but Kara tries not to let that distract her. Gingerly, checking each step forward, she navigates toward the fire flickering in the distance.

It occurs to Kara that while Lena had been trapped by the creature, not once had Lena cried out for help or called Kara’s name. It’s almost as if she’d expected to die alone in that pit. Kara wonders if it’s because Lena didn’t think Kara was within earshot or because Lena wasn’t sure Kara would grant aid.

That bothers Kara more than she cares to admit.

It’s full dark by the time they make it back to the canyon. Kara sets Lena down in her usual spot by the fire. Lena’s bitten her lip so hard against the pain that it bleeds.

Kara gets water and what little medical supplies Lena has on the ship, but it’s not nearly enough to address a wound this severe. Lena cries out when Kara pries the tentacle loose, revealing more teeth that had embedded in Lena’s skin.

Disgusted, Kara tosses it into the fire.

She focuses on Lena’s leg, but she was never trained well as a medic. The strips of skin and flesh are difficult to clean and even harder to put back in place well enough to bandage.

Halfway through the effort, Lena vomits to one side, but not once does she complain or berate Kara for her pitiful efforts.

The third time Kara tries to put the tattered remains of Lena’s flesh back together, Lena grabs her arm.

“Use the fire,” she says.

It takes Kara too long to understand, so Lena draws her blade, thrusts it into the flame, and rests the hilt on a rock.

Kara stares in something like horror.

Now that she thinks about it, cauterizing the wound is the best option considering their limited supplies, but the thought of searing Lena’s flesh with her own hands -

A wave of nausea makes Kara sway where she sits.

When she looks at Lena, whose face is twisted by the agony she must be feeling, she sees only encouragement in her eyes. That Lena would think to encourage Kara in this situation makes everything worse because it means Lena recognizes her fear.

She takes too long preparing for the action - making sure Lena’s leg is secure so it doesn’t move, that Lena herself won’t fall over when the pain worsens. She triple checks the blade for debris but there’s nothing. Of all the things Lena keeps in prime condition, her sword is at the top of the list.

After one last look into Lena’s eyes - whose pupils are dilated by the dark and the pain - and a deep breath to center herself, Kara presses the flat of the blade against the wound, trying not to burn herself in the process.

Lena breathes deeply and rapidly, attempting to endure the horrid experience but eventually a scream breaks loose. It rings out, echoing off the ship and the canyon walls until it dies in Kara’s ears.

By the time Kara finishes the cauterization, Lena has passed out cold.

Kara does the best she can to clean around the wound. Where the burned flesh isn’t puffed and swollen, it’s red and still streaked with blood.

Lena isn’t awake to see her, so Kara allows the tears in her eyes to fall. She wishes she could do more to help Lena, but she doesn’t have the equipment or the skill to make anything better.

_Day 60_

Two days later, Lena hasn’t come to her senses.

She lies in her bunk, her leg swollen to twice its normal size. It’s bloated and sickly, and pus leaks from the ghastly wound. Lena is feverish and though she doesn’t move her leg, she can’t seem to still the rest of her body even in her unconscious state.

Kara tosses and turns just as much, waking every time she hears a vigorous rustle, a moan, or a cry from Lena’s oblivion.

She’s used all the water in the ship’s reserves. Little water remains in the secondary catch on the stern of the ship, and it’s better to leave it for absolute emergencies. This could qualify, but now Kara knows of another water source. She just has to go get it and bring it back - but there’s no easy way to do that except for solid manual labor.

The day is mercifully cool, not that it keeps her from sweating. Kara travels with as many containers as she can carry to the pool of water she found before the altercation in the pit.

Carrying all that water back to camp hurts and she stops more than once to rest weary limbs, but the thought of Lena waking up alone and fearing herself abandoned drives Kara forward.

She sacrifices one of the containers to the firepit where it will be forever scored and not useful for much else, but once its contents have been boiled, she’ll have sterile water for cleaning and for Lena’s bandages.

The bandages have taken a chunk out of Lena’s limited and finite supply, but they’re necessary to try to keep the wound clean. Kara is terrified the infection will get worse but shoves any thought of Lena dying as far into the back of her mind as she can.

Kara doesn’t want to think about how she might survive alone.


	12. CHAPTER 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of their grisly confrontation, Kara finds herself unsettled by her unexpected advantage over Lena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I repeat. I am not a medical professional. 
> 
> READER BEWARE: Updates may continue on a rapid timeline, so if you don’t want to miss anything, subscribe for updates.
> 
> Thanks for sticking around!

** CHAPTER 11 **

_Day 61_

“Come on,” Kara mutters in Kryptonian. She gently lifts Lena’s head and presses the crude cup of weak broth to Lena’s lips. “Drink,” she says in Luthori.

After a few sips, Lena makes a mewling sound that warns Kara too late.

Lena vomits, and Kara sighs. It’s the second time today she’s attempted – and failed - to get something more substantial than water into Lena’s system, but Kara knows she has to keep trying.

She cleans up the mess, cleans up Lena, and waits until she can try again.

_Day 62_

Kara sits by the fire boiling another batch of broth when an odd scratching sound catches her attention.

By the time she pinpoints the sound and rushes to investigate, one of the shield-backs has burrowed under the wall and nearly breached the meager defense. It’s stuck beneath the wall, one claw caught between the boulders, but it won’t stay that way for long.

Kara runs to fetch her spear, and when she returns, the creature is almost free. She stabs wildly at it, no martial grace or finesse to her movements – nothing like Lena might have done – but she perseveres. Eventually, the screeching stops. The mauled and bloody creature dies still trapped.

Kara covers the corpse with smaller rocks and then buries the pile in sand. At least the wall stands, but it doesn’t make her feel any safer.

_Day 64_

Their meager supply of meat is almost gone. One of Lena’s cargo containers has an independent power source separate from the ship and survived the crash. It’s a small refrigeration unit, but whatever meat Lena hasn’t preserved has been stored inside. 

Kara used the freshest pieces for the broth, and now that Lena is keeping it down without getting sick, more will be needed.

Since their arrival, Lena has done all the hunting. Now that she is incapacitated, the hunt falls to Kara.

The thought is distasteful, but so is starvation. She has an idea where she can find more of the creatures, but how many of them may lie in wait is unclear.

Lena’s pulse pistol is in its charging station, one of the few components fed by the solar power generation system that Lena constructed. It feels strange to borrow the weapon without Lena’s permission.

“Guess it’s my turn to fetch dinner.”

Lena is unconscious, but Kara can’t stop talking. She knows Lena doesn’t understand her when she speaks Kryptonian, but its Kara’s intonation and her manner that she’s relying on.

She eyes Lena’s blade, but touching it feels wrong - disrespectful, perhaps, like it’s a violation of Lena’s person and her obvious faith.

Kara leaves one of their canteens in case Lena wakes. Lena’s long dark hair is thick and matted by her own sweat and fever, but her flawless face is even more captivating while she sleeps.

Kara finally tears herself away from Lena’s side. She closes the door as quietly as she can. Outside, she collects her supplies and a canteen of her own.

Before she can talk herself out of it, she leaves the canyon in search of prey.

X – X – X – X - X

The hunt is grisly. Kara manages to dispatch two of the creatures but has to fight off several more when she can’t kill them all.

One is half obliterated, but the meat hasn’t been ruined, and the other was killed by a clean shot to its hideous face. Kara bleeds and guts them as best as she can onsite, trying not to lose the contents of her own stomach in the process, then secures them together for the hike back to the canyon. The other creatures have returned to whatever hiding places keep them from discovery, and Kara remains vigilant against pursuit.

Sunset is still a few hours away, but the storm moving in gives the sky a glow. She stops on a bluff not far from the canyon and looks out over the harsh, unforgiving terrain.

There’s a rugged beauty to this place where they’re marooned, and for a moment, Kara breathes it in. Then she turns her feet toward home, somewhat surprised that’s what she thinks of the crashed crippled enemy ship half buried in the canyon.

Once the meat is processed and prepared, after she’s made Lena’s broth and helped to make her more comfortable and Lena falls asleep once more, Kara sits by the fire.

She’s tired but it’s a good fatigue, from effort and productivity and purpose. With a start, she realizes that despite Lena’s condition, despite the adrenaline of the hunt and stress of daily life on this rock, she’s more relaxed – more centered - than she’s ever been.

No more constant demands on her time or her expertise. If it weren’t for the injury, Lena wouldn’t need her at all. For the most part, the nightmares have eased. No rushing from one ship to another, one post or another, no forcing herself to stay awake just a little bit longer.

If she misses the variety of cuisine, she still finds the meat better than the rations she was used to. No more endless pursuit. No more searching for something they were never going to find.

She ignores the proof of the planet right in front of her.

No more duty, and Lena has never once called her Princess since she has no idea who Kara is to her people. No more talk of endless responsibility, no more admonitions from Alex -

She pushes Alex from her mind. The thought of the woman who has always been a sister to her still wrenches her guts and she has yet to let herself grieve.

The momentary peace has passed, its price remembered.

_Day 68_

Kara sits cross-legged inside the closed door of the ship. A small pile of wood chips grows in front of her while she sharpens the ends of several spears with a new makeshift blade made of scavenged metal from the crash.

It’s far past mid-day, but she’s stuck inside as yet another meteor shower pummels the canyon.

She’s not as worried as she once might have been, though she’s not cavalier. If a meteor big enough to wipe them out strikes the ship, so be it. She can do nothing to stop it and worrying about it won’t change things.

If the storm kills her, perhaps she’ll join the people she’s loved who are already dead.

Lena sleeps, the storm passes and still Kara sits, thinking about those people and what they might think of her current predicament.

The clarity is cold when she realizes she has the perfect opportunity to kill Lena. The woman she once thought of as her enemy is defenseless. Kara could use Lena’s own weapon against her.

The thought barely takes shape when she casts it aside, feeling guilty on two fronts. Could she really answer Lena’s trust with murder? Could her people forgive her for not exacting vengeance?

What they might have thought doesn’t matter now. No one is here to tell Kara who or how to be.

She refocuses on her task.

In time, she hears the _pik-pok_ of rain on the ship. She stands, stretches against the strain in her back and opens the door. The rain catch on the ship’s stern is probably fine, but best to be certain nothing from the meteor storm knocked it loose.

The steady trickle of water into the filter is as expected, and Kara nods to herself. With any luck and barring any catastrophes, she won’t have to walk to the lake for a few days.

On her way back to the door, she stubs her foot on an unexpected obstacle. One of the shield-back shells has been knocked from its stack and slid through the mud to block her path. Lena has kept every one of the damned things, certain that she’ll find some purpose for them.

Kara’s foot smarts and she hops around for a few moments in irritation until she puts her foot down, embarrassed at the display though Lena can’t see her.

When she returns the cursed shield back to its stack, she sees that several of them have been knocked down by the meteor shower. New holes pock the area of the ship they were propped against, and craters with hissing meteors surround the area.

She restacks them even though she’d like to pitch them in a ravine. They’re too lumpy and misshapen to serve any design purpose and she wishes she had the Luthori vocabulary to explain to Lena that collecting them is a waste of time.

The pile topples over again and Kara curses to herself before starting over. Honestly, why the meteors didn’t completely destroy these things -

She stops and stares at them anew. Every one of them is still intact.

Kara looks at the area around them again, her hypothesis yielding results.

The shield-backs are thick and ridged and the meteors must simply bounce off them because there are no holes or punctures or dents of any kind. Besides a little carbon scoring, the meteors don’t have any effect on them.

Each shield has a jagged-edge and an oval shape. They’re too small for one to offer any cover if Kara held it over her head, but if on the other hand they were stacked together or somehow connected, they could provide better protection against the terrors that fall from the sky.

Possible implementations race across her mind and she wishes she had a stylus and a tablet to draft the designs that she imagines.

Lena’s foresight will serve them well.

X – X – X – X – X

Lena doesn’t seem to mind Kara’s touch. Maybe she’s too far gone, but Kara doesn’t think so. A few times, Lena is cognizant enough to know that Kara is the one giving her water or broth, or tending to her wounds.

Sooner or later, though, she’s going to have to get out of this ship. The internal plumbing will require some maintenance once Lena is back on her feet. Kara could probably figure it out but she’s not sure Lena would appreciate her tinkering with the ship systems without her knowledge.

She doesn’t think too much about the fact that she cares what Lena prefers.

Kara sits close to Lena every day, to check her leg, to adjust her position, to bring her sustenance. Sometimes, she uses a cloth and some water to clean the sweat from Lena’s exposed skin.

If Kara lingers over the task of wiping Lena’s brow, she chooses not to acknowledge the protectiveness she feels. It confuses her.

_Day 71_

Lena shifts in her sleep and cries out in pain but doesn’t wake up. What little light there is in the ship glints off a track of tears on Lena’s cheek.

Kara weighs her options - if she wakes Lena the dreams will be over, but the discomfort and pain will not. Lena needs all the rest she can get. If instead Kara doesn’t wake her, the torment of whatever haunts Lena will continue.

She’s not sure her comfort would be welcomed. They’re supposed to be enemies, and though they’ve become allies of a sort, they’re not exactly friends. Forced companions, to be sure.

She does nothing.

Kara is almost asleep when Lena sighs, a deep settling breath as if whatever demons she has been fighting in her dreams have abandoned their cause.

Relieved, Kara is about to give herself over to oblivion when Lena speaks.

“Kara,” she whispers, and Kara’s heart begins to pound.

She sits up slowly, but Lena doesn’t speak again. Lena’s breathing evens out and she falls into a deeper sleep, but now Kara is wide awake.

Something inside Kara shifts, something monumental and profound. She swallows against the ache that rises in her to hear it again - her name in Lena’s voice.


	13. CHAPTER 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of Lena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot, as they say, grows less thin.

** CHAPTER 12 **

_Day 67_

They never talk about where they’re from, about what brought them here. Sometimes, Kara doesn’t even think of the strangeness of that, but other times, the things they don’t talk about seem to have a weight of their own.

Today, the gap feels wide. Kara is aware of her lack of medical skill, and when she mentions she was never trained to treat wounds like the one Lena has, the silence is intense after her words fade.

Kara wants to fill it, if only to provide another opportunity for Lena to say her name, but that doesn’t happen.

Most days, the time they spend talking increases since Lena can’t yet move much. Kara encourages Lena to teach her more Luthori and with nothing but time on their hands whenever Kara isn’t hunting or performing chores around their camp, Kara’s understanding of the language grows quickly.

Lena is awake and half propped up in her bunk. Kara sits near the door which is open to allow the breeze to clear the stale air in the ship.

“What is that?” Lena says, her voice strong but tired. “It’s not a spear.”

“No.” Without looking up, Kara continues her work of trimming and carving a large arm-thick branch. “I don’t know your word for it, but it’s to help you walk.” She lifts the soon-to-be crutch upright. “See? This part goes under your arm and..and by your leg.”

Lena looks confused and skeptical, so Kara stands to demonstrate.

Finally, Lena understands and though she doesn’t say anything, her eyes light up.

The crutch is finished a couple of hours later after Kara spends most of the afternoon sanding the rough edges smooth with a piece of broken filter.

“Thank you.” Lena’s eyes are clear and grateful, but it embarrasses Kara for some reason, and she only nods in return.

Kara helps Lena through the door. Outside, the light is stronger than it’s been in days and it emphasizes the changes Kara has made over the last few weeks. Kara nervously awaits Lena’s assessment.

“You’ve been busy,” Lena says, her dark brows high in surprise.

All the meteor holes on the ship are now covered by the shields. A lean-to of stacked and layered shields now sits near the firepit so their usual seats are protected from the elements. A rough table now stands under the broken wing, and Kara’s progress with a few more odd contraptions is revealed atop it.

Kara finally looks at Lena and sees more questions in her eyes. It’s the expression Kara has come to associate with their avoidance of their respective pasts, but she’s not sure what to say. Though she’s more conversational in Luthori, she doesn’t have the words yet to describe all her plans and doesn’t want to talk about those…other things that are far too close to the empty places inside she tries to avoid.

“Hungry?” Kara asks instead, and with a wan flat smile, Lena nods.

_Day 68_

Kara should have guessed this would happen. As soon as Lena could maneuver on her own with the crutch, it was only a matter of time before she would make the attempt.

The sky is barely light when Lena shuffles herself to her usual spot. With slow, careful hops, she etches the circle in the sand, and slowly lowers herself to a facsimile of her regular position, her injured leg outstretched as she kneels unsteadily with the other.

Kara hurts just watching, but Lena hisses through her clenched teeth until the pain eases enough for her to continue. Her eyes close in meditation for a long time but then she speaks.

There’s no wind this morning, and for the first time, Kara hears the words.

“I have no mother, no father and no house to call my own.” Lena’s voice shakes at first, no doubt from the pain, but they grow stronger as she continues.

“I have no shelter but the stars and no home but where I kneel. I have no heart but this blade, offered true and without shame despite its flaws.”

As she’s done countless times before, Lena draws her sword across her arm until it’s wet with her blood. Kara thinks she might be tired of watching Lena bleed - after all, she’s cleaned up enough of Lena’s blood to last her a lifetime - but this is different.

“I serve to live and live to serve, with faith and hope that this day I will be worthy.”

For some reason, her words bring tears to Kara’s eyes. She doesn’t think it’s because of Lena’s obvious discomfort, but perhaps instead, the strength and fortitude in this woman who is supposed to be her enemy.

She realizes she envies Lena her commitment. Even here, at the end of the universe, forgotten and doomed, Lena vibrates with purpose though wounded and in pain.

Lena holds the blade out longer than usual, and Kara wonders if she’s doing it just to prove she can.

It’s moot in a few moments because once she wipes her blade against the dark fabric over her thigh and sheaths it, Lena can’t get back up.

She tries and fails several times and just before she falls over completely, Kara is at her side.

“Let me help.” She suppresses her nerves at being this close to Lena without the care of an injury as an excuse.

Lena is nothing but lean muscle now, moreso than she’d been those first few weeks. Now that she’s got some color back, she doesn’t appear sickly so much as more dangerous even in her weakened state. Angular, more wild - everywhere on her body but her eyes which have grown softer.

Lena looks at her with something like gratitude mixed in with the annoyance of needing help, and a little of something else Kara can’t decipher. It makes Kara apprehensive and she looks away, then wishes she could look back.

The heat of Lena’s body presses against Kara’s skin and though her hair flies wild and blows against Kara’s cheeks, Kara doesn’t mind the feel of it. She fights back the urge to touch it, to twist it between her fingers to test its thickness and softness.

The moment passes as she helps Lena sit by the fire.

After Kara stokes the wood, she ponders the ritual she’s just watched. As she has so many times before, she wonders what it means - more so now that she’s heard and understood the words Lena speaks when she performs it. Somehow, though, that makes it more confusing.

She watches Lena again at mid-day and after the evening meal. By then, she can’t hold it in any longer. “What does it mean?”

Lena is sipping from a canteen and pauses at Kara’s question. She wipes the back of one hand across her mouth. “What?”

Kara doesn’t know what to call it: praying? A ritual? Instead, she falls back on old habits and waves a hand in the general direction of Lena’s reserved place. “That - the way you - every day you -“

She falters.

“Ah,” Lena says, her eyebrows rising and falling on her face. “The kim venu.”

Kara has no idea what this means, which must be telegraphed on her face because Lena nods.

After Lena explains a few new words, her story unfolds.

“My mother died when I was very young.” Lena stares into the fire, but her gaze is directed somewhere far away. “My father was…very powerful politically, but I had no interest in following in his footsteps. Yet there were few outlets available to me that would meet his…approval.”

Lena sits like a statue, unmoving. The firelight flickers in her eyes and the shifting light and shadow on her skin only emphasize her beauty. Kara doesn’t dare so much as twitch, afraid that Lena will stop talking entirely, yet also fearful that Lena will continue and force the reciprocity of Kara doing the same.

The sun has set and the darkness seems to rise faster this night.

“I pledged to pursue the sciences and the secular arts of my mother’s people and out of his love for her, my father relented and allowed me to study at the monastery on Duveri.”

The name means nothing to Kara but she gathers there must have been some prestige attached to this place.

“Father insisted on using his influence to get me accepted though I would have preferred application on my own merits -“

As if realizing how much she’s revealed, Lena stops, swallows, takes a deep breath and speaks again.

“I studied mathematics, physics, engineering and systems intelligence which were challenging and satisfying, but I also found…solace…in the monastery’s martial studies.”

This surprises Kara not one bit when she considers Lena’s skill with both weapons at her disposal. To hear that Lena is exceptionally intelligent is not a shock either.

“There are many levels to the art and I studied for a decade. The ritual you see is one of the daily meditations of the masters. I was allowed to practice it once I completed my advanced trials.”

Her eyes cloud now as she speaks, almost as if she’s drunk though there are no spirits to be had.

“When I finished and received my titles and appellations, I decided I’d established myself well enough to come home. I thought I’d finally done something that might earn my father’s favor. We didn’t speak often - he was always busy with one crisis or another and didn’t show much interest in my studies - but I always thought I’d return and secure a position worthy of his approval.”

Something warns Kara that the story approaches a dark turn.

Lena’s voice drops to a low drone not much louder than a whisper.

“But then those he thought were his allies plotted against him. By the time I returned, an assassin had murdered him in his bed.”

Lena wipes away a tear without shame but says nothing more.

The only sound in the dark is the crack and hiss of the embers. Not even the wind interrupts the gravity of the moment. Though Kara is witness to this pain, the only comfort she thinks Lena will accept is her soundless presence.

If silence is the only way to pay her respects, Kara decides that she would rather bleed than break it.


	14. CHAPTER 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena and Kara exchange truths that change everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I have to keep mentioning that I am not a medical professional? Good. I’ll stop. 
> 
> Things are about to get **interesting**. Hope you’re in for the long haul!

** CHAPTER 13 **

_Day 107_

Lena seems as healed as she’s going to get. The swelling went down weeks ago and now what remains of her ordeal is a gnarled ugly scar inches wide that wraps around her calf. Her leg can hold her weight, but she moves faster with the crutch and uses it without shame.

Now Kara does the hunting, but otherwise they’ve returned to their usual chore rotation.

Then one day, something that was bound to happen finally does and their cycles sync. It’s the first time their comfort levels with each other are secure enough that testiness leaks into the conversation.

Their proximity carries a strange tension today. Kara is cautious with her words, wary anything might set off the contentious disposition between them.

Kara doesn’t want to fight but the air is pressing in on her from above. She wants Lena closer to her, but the guilt of not holding Lena accountable for her prior actions eats at Kara - one moment she’s angry at Lena, the next she’s angry at herself.

Her guts feel heavy and she wants to hit something. She craves food with flavor that is not gamey meat or roots that taste like dirt no matter how much she cleans and prepares them. She wants to bathe in hot water and yearns for soap.

Since Kara does the hunting, Lena has taken over much of the meat preparation. They’ve divided the meat into three piles - fresh chunks for the spit, thicker portions to be cut into strips for drying, and odds and ends for soup.

Lena takes a small crude blade and cuts strips from a larger portion of the bounty. She pushes the first several slices across the table towards Kara.

Kara sighs and speaks before she can stop herself. “You cut the meat too thick.”

It’s her first complaint directed at Lena, and Lena pauses in her methodical slicing.

Kara lifts a slice when Lena frowns. “See? The edges will get too tough and the middle here will be too chewy. Cut them thinner.”

Too late, Kara realizes she’s given an order.

Lena’s next few slices are so thin, the meat is transparent.

Kara sighs again. “This is just going to turn into rope. We’ll be digesting it for weeks.”

The knife clunks when Lena drops it on the table. “Are pirates really that particular? Were you some kind of chef or something to have such exacting standards about meat preparation?”

Kara draws a breath to respond, but she stops when she realizes Lena has asked about Kara’s life before…before here.

She can’t think of a single word to say and goes back to her work.

X – X – X – X - X

The tension of Lena’s question changes the tone of the day to something pregnant and dark. It twists between them, the expectation that Kara say something about who she is and where she’s from.

Kara doesn’t like it but can’t deny it’s long overdue.

After a silent dinner, after Lena’s kim venu, they sit by a fire they don’t need. The heat of the day hasn’t eased and it’s far too warm to go to bed. The ship will be stuffy for hours which makes it impossible for Kara to sleep.

Lena sits quietly. Though she’s not as companionable as usual, at least she doesn’t hold the promise of violence.

Kara is surprised to hear her own voice begin to speak.

“I was born planetside during autumn in the northern hemisphere on Mila.”

She pokes at the fire with a spear though no tending is required. The flames leap, casting shadows everywhere.

“We stayed there until I was two, then travelled to Berendum on the edge of the uncharted sector for a while. After that, for the next ten years or so, we moved around a lot.”

She doesn’t remember much about those years except her parents. Most of their time was spent in space, and to Kara, all the stations looked the same.

Here with Lena is the longest she’s been on dirt in decades.

“Truth be told, I never spent a great deal of time with my parents. My mother in particular was very active in the movement to overthrow Luthorian rule.” Kara clears her throat, nervous about revealing so much of herself. “Alura believed independent planets should have the right to govern themselves, that a greater alliance was possible. It made her one of the prime targets for those in favor of the existing regime.”

She waits for Lena to interject, to defend her government and its rulers.

“How did you end up so far away from the central systems?” Lena asks instead.

Kara hadn’t given that much thought since she’d arrived in this sector - how far this planet was from the core systems.

“My grandfather was a descendant of the old ruling family on New Krypton, back before it was conquered in the expansion of Luthori Prime. By the time I was born, we’d long been a nomadic people, searching for the original Krypton.”

Kara looks up at the planet her people searched for decades to find, so close and so very far.

“As the last living Zor-El, I was meant to take over the old throne and use my position as princess to secure a parliamentary government and leverage it into an interplanetary alliance.” She can’t help the muttering that comes with these thoughts. “As if one person can change the tide of a whole people who’ve spent years - _years_ \- scratching and scrabbling in the ass-end of the galaxy.”

Kara doesn’t mention how unqualified she always felt to the task, no matter how much training she’d received or how much people pledged to follow her. She had never believed another monarch was the best thing for her people. How could a title change the truth? That they had nothing as long as the Luthorian queen hunted them? Kara could better serve her people in other ways.

And then she remembers that she can’t serve them at all, and none of this matters anymore because she’s never getting off this rock.

“What happened to your parents?” Lena’s low murmur is almost a whisper, but it pulls Kara from her dark thoughts - though this is the part she wants to tell the least.

“When I was fourteen, they were captured by the old king’s troops. Because of their position in the rebellion, they were transported back to Luthori Prime and held over for trial.”

Kara’s voice turns flat as it always does when she tells this part of the story. “I was raised by old friends of my parents - two scientists who were on the fleet council. They had a daughter my age and we lived as near sisters.”

She can’t talk about Alex. Not yet.

Kara sighs and tosses a loose rock into the fire, eager to be done with the story. “When the old Luthor died, the queen had all dissidents executed in his honor. My parents were among them.”

Lena’s gasp doesn’t surprise her, but Kara doesn’t look at her. The story is shocking to those who haven’t heard it before. Alex makes - _made -_ Kara tell the story at every council gathering, to remind her people of what they’d lost.

Kara herself is inured to their potency, having told the story many times, and nothing could make the loss worse. It’s already the most painful thing she’s ever experienced. Not even her time here compares.

The pain and sorrow have long since scarred over enough for her to function. She spent her remaining adolescent years angry and alone, though Alex tried to make her life better. It was years before Kara let her in, though, before she treated Alex like the sister her adopted parents wanted. Eliza and Jeremiah had seen to her studies, taught her Kryptonian history, made sure that she understood every aspect of her parents’ vision.

Whether Kara herself was interested in their path for her was never discussed.

Instead, Kara had fantasized for years about running away to the heart of Luthori Prime, joining the Luthorian armed forces and working her way up the ranks. She had envisioned a future where she joined the elite guard and managed to get close enough to kill those responsible for her parents’ death.

Though she had often considered the impossibility of such aims, she has never been as far from them as she sits right now - on a near-lifeless moon spinning in the far corner of the galaxy, so distant from her once solitary goal that she might as well never spare it another thought.

And yet the vision is still as powerful as ever.

“I know she’s your queen, Lena, but she has taken so much from me and my people, so much of my culture and family I will never forgive her and if I could, I would - “

But she can’t bring herself to say the words, even though she knows the threat hangs in the air. Lena is quiet, more silent than usual, and Kara wonders if threatening her queen is too much for their tepid truce to bear.

When she looks at Lena, though, it’s not judgment in Lena’s eyes, but horror. Eyes wide, mouth open, Lena’s shock changes into something piercing and Kara feels like Lena is looking right through her.

Kara hasn’t felt truly cold since her first nights of exposure in the rain, but Lena’s gaze is like ice on her skin. It reminds her of the people Lena killed before she crashed here.

She mourns the peace between them, even before it’s lost. “You think me a monster.”

Lena’s eyes are fixed, unyielding but Kara can decipher that Lena’s not angry and it confuses her.

Finally, Lena’s eyes shutter in a way that blocks her emotions.

“The old king was my father,” Lena says with cool distance. “His wife, Lillian, my...step-mother…is the queen of Luthori Prime.”

Kara clenches her fists in surprise.

Lena stands, leans on her crutch and turns to face Kara.

“I am Lena Luthor, and before I came here, I was second in line to the throne.”

Shocked, unable to move a muscle, Kara watches Lena walk away.


	15. CHAPTER 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of Lena’s revelation, Kara wrestles with the path forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I’m behind on comments, but it’s the (temporary) price of frequent updates. I’ll catch up after Ch 16. 
> 
> (Believe me; you *really* want me to get to that chapter as soon as possible.)
> 
> Side note: I’m going to change the “Enemy Mine AU” tag to “Enemy Mine Homage” (and adding a “BSG Homage” tag as well). The setting and premise are definitely gakked from that film, but the rest of the story is original, borrowing key SG/SC elements. 
> 
> In other words, watching the film won’t give you many hints about what’s next. (Neither will SG, for that matter.) All this is to say that I’m trying to keep you guessing.

** CHAPTER 14 **

Lena retires to the ship but leaves the door open.

Kara can’t follow. Instead, she sits by the fire for a long time. Lena does not return. The flames of the fire shrink until they’re low plasma rolling over coals while Kara stares into their depths, trying to make sense of this new information.

Her provisional ally is unimaginably close to her greatest enemy.

A breeze rises, pulling her attention from the cacophony in her head. It’s been weeks, almost months, since Kara has been outside at this time of night. The sky is clear, the stars are bright and there’s a peaceful magic to the wild landscape, but it doesn’t soothe her, not in the wake of what she now knows.

Lena’s family killed hers.

Lena’s father destroyed Kara’s people. Lena’s step-mother killed Lena’s parents. Lena herself killed someone Kara thinks of as a sister.

And yet.

And yet, Lena saved her life. More than once, Kara herself saved Lena’s.

The past and the present wrestle for dominion. The knots twist and tie inside Kara and she can’t unravel them.

The fire is almost dead, nothing but hot smoking coals by the time she stands. She’s too tired to stay awake, but she can’t bring herself to sleep so close to Lena. Instead, Kara grabs a spear and sits down near the open door, leans against the ship and closes her eyes.

She doesn’t dream.

In the morning, she wakes when Lena walks outside to perform the kim venu. Lena pauses briefly but says nothing, and Kara doesn’t speak a word. The silence between them is heavy with truth now, and it’s Kara’s move but she can’t think.

Lena is too close.

By mid-day, Kara acts on the decision she hadn’t realized she’d made. She packs some of the meat and two of the larger canteens along with some other supplies, a few of the shields and her spears. The makeshift bundle on her back is cumbersome but not difficult to carry. Kara is stronger than she was when she first arrived.

Without saying a word to Lena, who watches her quietly, Kara leaves the canyon.

X – X – X – X - X

It takes three days to find the wreckage.

Unlike her explorations of the areas near the camp, Kara hadn’t marked the path from her crash to Lena’s. There are no piles of stones to navigate by and she only remembers the general trajectory. She moves quickly but has to correct her course more than once.

Kara is careful to mark her passing now only out of caution but doesn’t want to think about her return. More than once, she considers the foolishness of her errand, the hidden dangers of the journey, but she can’t go back yet, not until she gets some perspective, and she can’t be close to Lena - not while her anger and her grief have nowhere to go.

The perils of the landscape are more well-known to Kara now, so she travels easily. None of the shield-backs block her way or threaten her progress so it’s only the uncertain course that adds time to her voyage. Eventually, she finds the otherwise nondescript location where she crash landed almost four months ago.

The ship looks smaller than she remembers. It’s not just the broken wings or the burned-out shell. It seems tiny, and she wonders about that change in perspective since she is no larger herself.

Then again, she is also not who she once was.

The fighter is blackened from the fire and warped, as is the explosion-scarred ground that extends away from the ship. The cockpit is half full of murky rainwater. Meteors have burned themselves into parts of the hull.

The small clearing beyond the blast zone appears to be a decent protected spot for a camp assuming it doesn’t rain. While she’d never have survived here when she’d arrived, Kara has the supplies and experience now to fend for herself, as well as the confidence to know she can.

Kara makes a small fire and sets a perimeter of half buried spears. It’s not much protection against shield-backs all by itself, but it’s enough to provide some warning should any make an appearance.

She stares at the fighter as if some wisdom will come from it, but with a deep resigned exhale, she accepts the truth. The scored corpse of a ship is all that remains of her life before here. It holds no answers for her future. There’s a relief in her that at least one answer is so absolute.

The heat from the fire reflects off the rock face behind her.

Kara sleeps.

X – X – X – X - X

A few sips of water and some dried meat make an adequate but ultimately unsatisfying breakfast, and with a stiff neck as her only company, Kara’s in a foul mood.

She finds herself angry at Lena, not for her birthright, but with the fact that she hadn’t shared the information sooner. That’s what makes Kara wastefully toss her last bite of meat into the fire.

That Lena had been so secretive with her truth.

_“My father was very powerful politically.”_

Kara could scream. Second in line to the throne. She wonders at providence - to have come all this way, to be marooned here, and to have come closer to her parents’ killer than she might have ever done in her old life.

Fate is maddening.

Would her parents be ashamed of her for building a truce with their enemy? Would Alex have judged her harshly for the allyship that has grown between Kara and her sister’s killer?

And worst, what does it matter if they’re all dead?

She sharpens new branches into more spears near the newly stoked fire.

Can she really blame Lena for not bringing it up sooner? With no small amount of chagrin, Kara realizes that she never gave Lena the chance to explain. The few details Lena had shared about her past had been of her mother’s death and a time she’d spent away from her father. The Luthorian queen wasn’t her birth mother, though that didn’t mean that Lena’s ideals were any different.

Did Lena agree with the tenets of Luthori Prime, to bend the galaxy to their rule and claim the best it had to offer for themselves? Did Lena know about the atrocities committed in the Luthor name? Does she approve of them?

Kara isn’t sure how to move forward if Lena is in favor of all the things Kara herself is against.

Lena could very well be the walking epitome of all things Luthori Prime. But if that were true, it doesn’t explain the compassion and gentle care Lena has given her these last few months.

If Lena had been a rank-and-file member of the Luthorian ruling class, she does not carry herself as such now. Much like Kara no longer carries herself as the last Princess of New Krypton. Kara thinks her parents would be ashamed of her now.

She doesn’t remember her mother’s smile and can’t recall her father’s voice. By the time her parents were captured by the Luthorians, they rarely spent time with their daughter. Kara was lucky if she saw them in person once a year. They were always working, always striving to make things better for their people and the independent worlds, all of which kept them away from their only daughter.

They did not seem to care for the hope Kara had of being a normal family.

Perhaps Kara’s anger at the Luthorian queen had more to do with the death of an unlikely future. There would never have been a day that she and her parents had lived happily ever after on Krypton. Life on a planet would have been much the same as it had been in space - making things better for their people. It was the duty she was raised to uphold, no matter what.

Alone, and with no small measure of shame, Kara is relieved the path she’d never wanted is now no longer an option. While she wanted her people to have safety, she did not want to be responsible for it. She wanted them to have freedom, but she did not want to lead them in a war against a corrupt regime to get it.

And now, she does not have to.

If all those futures have been stricken from the record by virtue of impossibility, can she really hold Lena accountable for a past that can’t be changed?

The whole day passes while she ponders her future on this moon with Lena. When she wakes the following morning, she knows it’s time to go.

The worst part is how easily Kara can forgive Lena. What does that say about her?

It comes down to one immutable fact. They are no longer what and who they were in their old lives. The angry grief still swirls within her but there’s no place for it to go.

She’ll have to learn to live with it unresolved.

Kara stamps the fire dead and buries the coals. This time, when she leaves for Lena’s ship, she puts her old life behind her.

X – X – X – X - X

The smoke of Lena’s fire is still strong enough for Kara to plot her course.

Setting aside the reasons why she’s come all this way, Kara ponders Lena in a different light.

Lena does not carry herself like royalty, at least like no royal Kara has heard of. She is not arrogant or dismissive. Even when she’d held Kara captive, she’d been somewhat kind - or as kind as someone who keeps another person prisoner can be.

Kara decides that, when she gets back to the canyon, she must give Lena the chance to tell her story.

Because of the rare light of the moon, Kara doesn’t realize how dark it’s become. With her path well-lit before her, and the piles of stones she left as guides, not to mention the lighter load since she’s consumed most of the food and water, she makes good time. She decides to continue through the night.

The fire is banked when she returns, and since Lena is nowhere to be seen she must be inside the ship. Kara stashes her supplies as quietly as she can and weighs sleeping outside against knocking on the door and waking Lena.

If nothing else, she owes Lena an apology for leaving without saying a word.

Kara steps toward the door and the decision is made for her when it slams open.

Lena has her pulse pistol raised between them, and the shock of it wielded against her freezes Kara where she stands.

“Are you here to try to kill me?” Lena asks. “Because I assure you, I will not yield to your vengeance and you are no match for me.”

With her other hand, Lena draws her blade and steps into the moonlight.


	16. CHAPTER 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and Lena have a long overdue conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After that cliffhanger, you don’t really care what I have to say right now, do you? ;-)
> 
> Ok, *one* note. The seed that inspired this story is in this chapter. I think you’ll know when it happens.

** CHAPTER 15 **

Though Kara knows how dangerous Lena is with these weapons, she isn’t afraid.

Instead of the unstable truce she half expected, she’s returned to an outright declaration of opposition and they’re back to day one. She came here to apologize and now finds Lena is ready to kill her.

No, not afraid. Kara is pissed. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She yells in Kryptonian before she remembers Lena doesn’t understand and switches to Luthori. “You’re gonna shoot me now?”

Shock washes over Lena’s face, replaced by ire of her own. The moonlight steals the green from her eyes, leaving an ethereal grey, and her features are fierce enough to have been carved from stone.

Lena steps closer to Kara but leaves plenty of room for a melee between them.

“The last thing you said was that you wanted to murder my stepmother,” Lena says. “And then you packed up and left without speaking another word to me. Now you show up in the middle of the night and think you can just kill me in my sleep --“

Kara scoffs and raises her empty hands. “Rao, Lena, I don’t want to kill you --“

“What was I supposed to think?”

Empty hands become fists, and Kara rests them at her hips. “That if I wanted you dead, I’d have killed you a long time ago.”

Lena’s mouth falls open with blatant disbelief. “Is that meant to make me feel better?”

Kara takes a deep breath, then lets it out. “I just mean I don’t feel as I once did and don’t think you do either. I left because…because I needed to get some space to clear my head.” To think about what Lena had told her, to get clarity on the very different places they were from and where they might go from here.

The point of Lena’s pistol drops a bit and is no longer aimed at Kara’s heart. “Well, for all I knew, you were never coming back.”

“Did you really believe that?” Surely, Lena might have guessed that Kara would have taken more supplies if she were leaving for good.

“I don’t know!” Lena’s movements are jerkier now, the clearest indication of her anger that Kara has ever seen. Lena is always precise, sure-footed - and now she stomps and gestures wildly.

Somehow it pleases Kara to know Lena can be riled but she doesn’t want this to go too far. “You could try trusting me.” She bites back a wince. To use those words means she might be expected to return the favor.

Does she trust Lena as much as she’s asking Lena to trust her?

The fierceness of Lena’s expression eases. “So where have you been?”

Kara takes another breath, relaxes her shoulders. Lena is still armed, but it doesn’t seem like she really wants to shoot or skewer Kara where she stands.

“I went back to what was left of my ship. I — I needed to think.”

“And what conclusions have you come to?”

There’s a touch of derision there, a hint of judgment, and once again, Kara’s annoyance takes center position.

“That it’s a good thing yours was in better condition since mine was completely destroyed.”

Lena sneers and arches an eyebrow.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You Kryptonians are little more than common pirates.”

“Pirates?” Ice forms in Kara’s veins.

“You steal things that don’t belong to you and pretend they were yours all along. Not to mention blowing my entire escort back into stardust. You have given no thought and spared not one word for the people you killed that day - the men and women who served with me for years and whose only crime was securing my safety.”

“So Luthorian soldiers are just doing their jobs? Is that what they called it when they destroyed our homes, ruined families and murdered innocents — “

“Innocents! Is that how they consider themselves when they spaced those soldiers without a trial before claiming their vessels?”

Flustered, Kara can’t find a counter-argument, and it infuriates her that Lena somehow has the upper hand.

“I had nothing to do with that.”

“So you only claim leadership when it suits you.”

“That’s not what I — I mean I wasn’t privy to those orders. I didn’t know anything about them.”

“And that makes it better? That you can say things done in your name have nothing to do with you?”

“They weren’t done in my name!” Kara’s voice echoes, a tight ringing off the canyon walls. Yelling into the night is ridiculous, but there’s no one else around to hear them.

“Weren’t they? You’re the last of your line, are you not? For the glory of Krypton, I suppose?” Lena’s speech unfolds faster, spite lacing her words.

Kara seethes, wishing she were equally armed.

Lena lowers her head, casting shadows over her eyes. “I had no plans to visit this sector, but one of the sensor feeds stopped sending data. I thought it might be storm damage or equipment failure, but never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that it was disreputable disorganized dissidents stealing territory that wasn’t theirs - defended by fighter craft no less. You should be proud. Your squadron was quite effective.”

“I wasn’t part of the fighter squadron.” Kara can’t pull together the words to defend her people and it frustrates her. “I wasn’t even supposed to be out there that day.”

She blushes when Lena scoffs.

“Oh, I see,” Lena says. “You like to let other people fight your battles. Don’t want to get your royal hands dirty yourself.”

“Rao, the _nerve_ you have.” Kara steps closer. “Daughter of the old king, is it? When you’re not hiding the truth to serve your own purposes?”

“I hid nothing! There was no reason to tell you sooner. It would have changed nothing. I was on a scientific exploration, not some militant expansion.”

“What difference does it make why you were here? You still took innocent lives.”

“And we’re back to this. Your people fired first.”

Kara stops for a moment. That’s not how she remembers it. “No, you — “

“I gave specific orders not to engage unless fired upon.”

Kara doesn’t want to believe it.

Lena continues, picking up speed. “So don’t you dare try to sit in judgment over my actions. At least I have some pride in who I am and what I’ve accomplished. You surely can’t say the same.”

“What do you m— “

“You think I couldn’t hear the utter disdain in your voice for the throne you say is your birthright, the relief you seem to have at being stuck here so you don’t have to - “

“And whose fault is that?”

Lena stops talking, and Kara blazes forward.

“My people wouldn’t even be out here if it weren’t for your father. Old King Lionel and his relentless push to bend more planets and governments to his will. He couldn’t be satisfied with the core systems - no, he had to reach into the outer territories and make sure they bowed to Luthori Prime. No matter how many people’s lives were destroyed. Is that the family business?”

Lena looks mortified at the suggestion. “I had nothing to do with that.”

But her denial is the opening Kara’s been looking for. It doesn’t even matter that Kara doesn’t think what she insinuates is the truth. She still twists the knife as hard as she’s been stabbed.

“Maybe the problem is you agree with them.” Kara is pleased at the fire flashing in Lena’s eyes. “Is that it? Do you want to follow in Mommy and Daddy’s footsteps? Do you envy their ability to subjugate the masses --”

She doesn’t mean the words as she says them. She only wants to singe some of the arrogance from Lena’s features but it’s too late. In the blink of an eye, Lena closes the distance between them to raise her blade and press it across Kara’s throat.

Kara freezes.

Lena’s eyes cool, and her face smooths into an otherworldly blankness. “You speak of things you do not understand.”

“Enlighten me.” Kara is surprised at her own calm.

“I will tell you nothing until you acknowledge that what you think is the truth is furthest from it.”

Kara leans forward, raising her chin and pushes her neck against the blade. She grimaces at the pain of its stinging bite but juts her chest and offers no surrender.

It doesn’t escape her notice that Lena shifts her weight back instead of pushing her advantage.

Kara takes a shallow breath. She does not want to go all the way back to the beginning with Lena, nor does she want something irreparable to happen now.

“What other truth is there?” She’s standing on a precipice before something dark and unknown, but she can’t turn back. She sees Lena more clearly now — the tightness around her eyes hinting at sleepless nights, the slight tremble of her chin.

Even in the moonlight, Kara can see the faint flush in Lena’s cheeks. The hand holding the blade is steady and true, but everywhere else, Lena almost vibrates. Lena’s chest heaves with rapid breaths as her eyes dart back and forth between Kara’s and then she looks at Kara’s lips -

Oh.

_Oh._

The…something…Kara has seen in Lena’s gaze makes sudden sense.

Kara reaches between them, and with forced slowness as she holds Lena’s eyes with her own, she gently but firmly wraps her hand around Lena’s arm. Kara pushes the blade away from her neck, down to Lena’s side, and Lena does not resist.

She kisses Lena - firm, solid, unmistakable. Lena’s lips are cool but the rest of her emits a warmth that seeps into Kara’s skin. Kara is almost embarrassed to note she’s hungry for it, emboldened when Lena doesn’t stop her.

When Kara finally pulls away, she closes her eyes tightly, afraid to see Lena’s rejection because this is the ultimate question to be asked and answered. If Lena doesn’t feel the same…

After a tense moment where all Kara hears is her own heartbeat and Lena’s ragged breath, Lena kisses back in kind.


	17. CHAPTER 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything – *everything* – changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friends, that rating is there for a reason, because if you know me at all, you *know*. ;-)
> 
> CW/TW: NSFW. Mature content. Implied consent.

** CHAPTER 16 **

What Kara feels matches the look she’s seen on Lena’s face.

Kara _wants._

Pent up aggression from their argument becomes recognized passion, the urge she had a moment ago to dominate now the urge to share this swirling _something_ inside her, to have it pushed back against her in Lena’s kiss.

Lena’s quiet moan seems much louder than it is, and it’s heady stuff that spirals Kara’s desire higher. She clutches at Lena’s shoulders, drawing her closer as she pushes forward until Lena’s against the wall of the ship next to the open door.

When Lena pushes her hips against Kara’s, Kara moans back. Before she realizes what she’s done, she’s pushed her hands into the collar of Lena’s tunic and widened the taut fabric until Lena’s chest is exposed in the moonlight.

Kara crushes her palms against Lena’s breasts, clutching and then pulling back just enough to pluck and pinch. Lena has yet to drop her weapons and has done nothing but kiss Kara back and cleave herself to Kara where she can.

In a pause to catch her breath, Kara considers slowing down, ending the argument altogether before they tread this new ground, but Lena’s lips are soft and perfect, and she needs one more kiss before she speaks again.

And then Lena bites her lip, and a switch flips inside Kara, igniting something that is beyond her control. Kara slips her hands down until she’s reached Lena’s belt and quickly unfastens it. She stares at Lena, giving her the chance to stop what comes next, but Lena says nothing and then there’s nothing in Kara’s way when she slides her hand in Lena’s pants through wiry hair and heat and wet and slick skin.

Lena gasps. Her clit is swollen and full and the feel against Kara’s fingers makes Kara’s head swim.

There’s a need in Lena’s eyes that calls Kara like a siren, but she can’t give into that yet. There’s something else in the way. Something angry and hurt and naked and she hates it. When she pushes her fingers inside Lena, she swallows the pleased gasp on Lena’s lips, and Kara lets herself go.

She knows she’s being rough, and she doesn’t care. If Lena wanted her to stop, she would have stabbed Kara by now. Kara’s arm burns with her exertion, but she doesn’t slow down.

She thrusts harder. Lena spreads her legs wider, but then her head falls forward, her eyes closing, and Kara can’t stand it.

“Look at me,” she says in Kryptonian, a guttural growl that Lena may not understand but responds to. When Lena raises her head with obvious effort, Kara grabs her by the throat and holds her in place.

She doesn’t just give - she takes. She pours all of herself into the motion - the grief and loss, the uncertainty, the need and the loneliness, the anger and the hope, relief and fear -

Kara pants as she thrusts until she grunts and then moans and then cries out, pushing herself past her own limits and Lena doesn’t bend or break.

Lena stares back at her, unyielding even as she gives everything she has, until her eyes shade quicksilver. The moment she comes, the moment Lena’s surrender is complete and the glory of it washes over her face, Kara is overcome by remorse.

She bites back a sob and stops moving, her fingers aching as the tight flesh around them pulses and flutters. Lena’s pistol clanks against the side of the ship as she sags against it.

Kara’s apology dies in her throat as she releases Lena’s neck, unsure as she is that one is required. She refuses to look away and silently begs Lena for something she can’t ask for out loud, something she can’t even define.

Lena doesn’t speak.

Kara withdraws, cups her hand against Lena, her fingers slick against the heat that still pulses.

They breathe in tandem until they don’t, and the electric mad magic fades.

Lena shifts her weight so she can stand without leaning against the ship, and it makes Kara’s position unwieldy. Kara pulls her hand away and straightens Lena’s clothes nervously. Lena’s looking away now, sheathing her blade and holstering her pistol and still saying nothing. Kara can’t think of anything to say either, so she awaits judgment.

If Lena walks away or turns against her now, Kara will be truly bereft.

Lena stands before her, strands of her hair wild in the wind, tunic still spread wide, pants secure but belt hanging free. She looks spent but ignited somehow, like she’s been given her due but it’s nowhere near what she can endure.

She’s breathtaking.

Lena stares at Kara for so long Kara wonders what measure is being taken. Then Kara sighs, but does not lower her eyes.

Satisfied, Lena takes her by the hand and leads her back inside the ship.

Once the door is secure, Kara stands uncertain as Lena stashes her weapons and settles in her bunk as she does every night. After an uncertain moment, Kara turns to her bunk, another layer of grief sinking into her skin.

“Kara.”

The sound of her name in Lena’s low voice makes her ache so deeply, her knees tremble.

Lena tugs at Kara’s hand and pulls her down.

In the dark where each cry seems louder in the quiet confines of the bulkheads, Kara tries to make up for her earlier madness by devoting herself to Lena’s pleasure. She listens, feels, learns Lena in a new way but it’s similar to what she’s done for months — feeling out Lena’s moods and learning her rhythms.

This is no different, and yet it absolutely is. She doesn’t mold herself to what Lena wants; she shifts herself so what they each want is in alignment.

As for Lena, well…Lena kisses and touches her like they’re going to die tomorrow.

It’s not a constant urgency - more like a reverent focus on the now. If their touches are soft, Lena pauses to cup Kara’s face in her hands and kisses deeply with singular purpose. If the wildness takes over again, Lena is just as strong in her embrace, just as driven in her pursuit of Kara’s pleasure. It’s as if she thinks she gets this one chance and she’s not going to waste it.

She speaks little, but sometimes in whispers Kara can’t always understand save “more” and “don’t stop”, and she is nothing if not an ardent participant in their union.

During one rest before one or the other of them is moved to start anew, Kara thinks about her brief couplings on the _Alura_ or other ships in the fleet. Nothing serious, nothing lasting - sometimes just a quick release of tension - and never the power or intensity she feels now with Lena. She could never _relax_.

Fingers again slick after Lena’s most recent orgasm, Kara paints the wetness on Lena’s spine. She has never felt like this with anyone - so present and stripped bare and exalted and _alive._

Once again, she wonders if she was ever really living before she got herself stranded on this rock.

Later, it’s both sadness and elation that makes her cry. To feel this wonderful yet to have sacrificed so much, to have come so close to losing the opportunity altogether…

The tears finally have their way. Kara lies half across Lena’s hip, her arm wrapped around Lena’s body while her head rests below Lena’s breasts.

“If you must leave again, tell me,” Lena says softly. “Don’t go without saying a word.”

“I won’t.” This is an easy promise to make because Kara has a new truth. She won’t leave like that again.

Lena’s breathing evens out and sinks into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Kara feels the beginning of another sob but swallows it down. She plants one last soft kiss against Lena’s belly. “I’m sorry,” she whispers in Kryptonian.

She’s sorry for everything.

Lena’s breathing doesn’t change, but one hand moves to rest on the back of Kara’s head.

The tears fall even when Kara closes her eyes. She falls asleep with Lena’s fingers combing through her tangled hair.

X – X – X – X - X

At dawn, Kara is exhausted when Lena untangles her limbs from Kara’s embrace. She kisses Kara’s crown, reclaims the blade she left nearby and walks outside still nude.

When she returns, Lena tucks her blade behind her against the bulkhead and presses her now cold skin against Kara’s.

Kara should rise and start the day, but right now, nothing is as important as staying exactly where she is, doing exactly what she’s doing.

She caresses Lena’s body with her warm hands because she can. In time, she lulls them both back to sleep.

X – X – X – X - X

They spend most of the day in the ship finding new ways to drive each other deliciously insane. At one point, Kara is rendered speechless not by Lena’s touch, but by her laugh.

Kara shifts her weight without thought and slips onto her elbow, knocking her face against an uneven protrusion from the bulkhead. It stings, but she resumes her task, alternating strokes and thrusts in a way that makes Lena arch her back.

Lena looks at Kara’s cheek and frowns. She grabs Kara’s head with her palms over Kara’s ears and pulls her close enough to lick against Kara’s skin.

When she pulls back, Kara sees the small streak of blood on Lena’s tongue before Lena licks her lips and smiles.

Kara thrusts faster.

Lena laughs, deep and full, until she can’t get enough air and focuses on other things.

X – X – X – X - X

At sunset, Lena walks outside wearing nothing but her tunic and carrying her blade. Kara follows barefoot in her flight-suit, but it’s folded down at the waist.

She sits in the doorway and watches Lena perform the kim venu, but for the first time, she feels a longing and an envy. The peace that Lena exudes as part of her ritual - Kara wants something like that for herself now.

When Lena is finished and turns toward the ship, Kara speaks before the words solidify in her head.

“Will you teach it to me?” Kara asks.

Lena looks at her for a long time and then looks out at the setting sun. “No.”

Kara’s heart seizes in disappointment.

“No, not yet.” Lena closes the distance between them and leans over to kiss Kara soundly. “But I will teach you other things.”

When Kara stands as if to begin right away, Lena shakes her head.

“We’ll start tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be a few days before the next update!


	18. CHAPTER 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of something new for Kara, and the rest of Lena’s story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos! I’m floored by your response to this story and can’t wait to share more of it.

** CHAPTER 17 **

_Day 118_

Kara huffs in frustration and opens her eyes. She sits in the dirt near what she thinks of as Lena’s ritual space, cross-legged with her hands resting on her knees. “I don’t feel any different.”

In the the work area beneath the ship’s wing, Lena sifts through collected crash debris and salvaged materials from the cargo bay. She pulls a hunk of metal from a pile, evaluates it and then tosses it aside. “Sometimes you won’t.”

“So what do I do now?” Kara would rather focus on Lena, who looks fresh and clean after their morning swim. Lena’s hair is curly and wild today, with long waves that hang down her back.

Lena remains focused on her task. “Try again.”

“I just don’t understand what I’m supposed to try to do here. Shouldn’t I visualize something?”

“Close your eyes, breathe in through your nose and out your mouth. Feel the air move through you.”

“But how long do I do that?”

“As long as you need to.”

Kara wonders if Lena is being deliberately unhelpful. “But how do I know when I’m done?”

“You’ll know.”

Kara twists her body so she’s half-faced in Lena’s direction. “Is this some sort of deliberate torture?”

Lena offers a brief glare, then returns to her sifting.

“What are you looking for?” Kara asks.

“Never mind me. Close your eyes and focus on your breathing.”

Another huff bursts from Kara, but she turns herself back to her original position and closes her eyes.

X – X – X – X – X

Lena adds short-range walks to her recuperative routine. She may never run on the scarred leg again, but she’s determined to get as much use out of it as she can.

Kara hovers so much that Lena insists on teaching her a form of distance communication – arm motions and hand gestures that provide tactical information without speech.

What it really means is Kara has to move beyond conversational range so they can practice, which gives Lena room to test the limits of her leg without Kara’s oversight.

They happen upon a small pod of shield-backs about an hour’s walk from the ship. Kara eyes the terrain and returns to Lena’s side.

“I’ve got an idea, but you may not like it.”

Ten minutes later, Lena is crouched on one knee in the scree of the ravine.

“They’re getting awfully close,” Lena says.

“Shh.”

Above and behind Lena, Kara stands nestled in a small space in the wall of rock for cover, poised with a spear at the ready.

Seven or eight of the shield-backs - Kara’s estimation unless more are hidden - make their way toward Lena. The largest one in the lead is more motivated than the others and rapidly closes on Lena’s position.

“May I remind you I’ve only got my blade with me?”

“I know.” Kara focuses on her quarry.

A few small boulders and fist-sized rocks are the only obstacle between the creatures and Lena. They will have to climb over them to get to her, but when they do, she won’t be able to run fast enough to escape them.

“I just washed these clothes,” Lena says without moving.

Kara fights down her laugh and squeezes the shaft in her hand, drawing the spear back another few inches. The shield-back in the lead screeches as it clears most of the rocks and sees the open path to its prey. Lena doesn’t move, a testament to her faith.

“Any day now, Kara.”

She does sound annoyed, though.

The creature climbs over the last rock, and for the space of half a breath, its eyes and antennae aren’t covered by its shield and Kara throws her spear forward and lets it fly.

The spear hits home and knocks the creature back almost a meter, its cry of pain cut short but loud enough to scare the rest of its pod into turning back in the other direction.

Kara leaps down as Lena stands, brushing off her knees.

“Told you,” Kara says. “If you take out the lead one, the others get scared and back off.” She retrieves her spear, lifts the shield back with one arm - something she hadn’t been able to do the first months she was here - and carries it over to the rocks to gut the carcass and bleed it.

“Maybe you should do all the hunting from now on.” Lena’s cool tone has a measure of surprise. “You’re getting pretty good with that spear.”

Kara spends her mornings performing all kinds of target practice. She plants her hands on her hips, her spear propped against her shoulder as she stands. “You weren’t worried, were you?”

Lena says nothing but arches a dark eyebrow.

Kara wonders how soon they can get back to camp.

X – X – X – X – X

After Lena’s evening kim venu, Kara entices Lena from her usual tasks of checking the filters and brushing sand from the solar panels.

When the lovemaking pauses for need of sustenance, they eat their dinner and afterward sit in a new preferred position by the fire - Kara in her chosen spot, but Lena on the ground between her legs.

Kara’s chin rests on Lena’s shoulder, the silence comfortable until Lena breaks it.

“My mother was a courtesan of the old king.”

Lena’s voice is low but it cuts into Kara’s skin like the wind swirling around them.

Lena clears her throat and continues. “He’d had several lovers over the years and as long as he kept them private and spawned no children, the queen ignored his infidelity. Evidently, they married for position and not for love.”

Lena’s disapproval of her father’s actions bleeds into her tone.

“Lillian bore him a son, my half-brother, who’s now next in line to the throne.”

“Alexander.”

Lena hums her acknowledgement. “Lex is a good man but craves Lillian’s approval too much to veer very far from her political practices. His only rebellion seems to be his love for me.”

Kara can tell Lena misses her brother, but more importantly she hears the truth Lena had suggested before - Lena does not support the queen’s vision for the galaxy.

Lena returns to her story, and that’s what it feels like - a dark fairy tale of a distant land that should have no bearing on Kara’s life, and yet it does in so many ways.

“Lex claims she was different when he was small. That Lillian doted over him and was kind to those in her employ, and when King Lionel’s policies were too harsh, she was a temperate voice of reason.”

Lena sounds doubtful.

“But then he committed the most heinous crime in her eyes. He fell in love with my mother.” She falls quiet for a moment, pauses for a deep sigh. “And because he was in love, he gave my mother what she wanted - a child.”

The weight of that decision settles around the fire with them.

“I was led to believe she died of sickness when I was four, but I’ve heard rumors Lillian had her killed.”

Kara can’t hide her gasp. She squeezes her arms around Lena in apology for interrupting.

“I don’t remember my mother,” Lena says. “And the old king had enough of a soul that he brought me into his home. I’ve been told often it was to protect him from potential ransom attempts, but I believe differently. Regardless of his feelings for me or their lack, he would not let the child of the woman he loved die at a kidnapper’s hands, nor would he allow leverage against him. So I was raised as a royal bastard in Luthori Prime.”

She sighs. “Only Lex treated me like a member of the family.”

Lena shifts herself more snugly against Kara’s chest.

“Gaining my father’s approval was very important to me when I was young. I didn’t know then that it was a fruitless pursuit. I studied harder than my peers, I stayed out of Lillian’s way, but soon I realized the only thing that would please him would be for me to become like one of the tools in his arsenal - the men and women who conquered the galaxy in his name. I wanted no part of it, but I was too young to say anything against it.”

Her regret is clear, as is the implication that she is far stronger now than she was then.

“I left for the monastery when I was twelve. One of my father’s conditions was that no one know who I was, so the other students treated me like a normal person. And when I studied the martial arts, I was judged by my dedication and skill, not by my connections. My time there may be the only time in my life when I was judged on my own merits.”

Guilt washes over Kara, knowing how her own response to learning of Lena’s lineage nearly destroyed their friendship before it could begin.

On the tail of that thought comes another. Are they still friends, or are they more now? And what does it matter? It’s just the two of them, and they can define everything by their own rules…or leave them unlabeled.

“When I returned, I don’t think Lillian knew what to do with me. I was far more formidable than when I’d left, and still had Lex’s favor so she couldn’t easily have me killed like I think she did to Lionel.”

Her voice isn’t melancholy or mournful, so perhaps Lena carries little love for her father now. It sounds like she’s merely musing to herself and to Kara by extension.

“They found the assassin quickly and Lillian had him executed immediately. There wasn’t even a trial.”

Such a thing does sound suspicious, but Kara knows nothing of Luthorian courts, only that Queen Lillian’s warped sense of justice has taken or disrupted countless lives.

Lena shifts in Kara’s arms, bringing them impossibly closer.

“You…mentioned once before I might share their views of things, and I must tell you I don’t. Not one bit. I turned my back on what they were doing because it was convenient and I could bury myself in my own interests and pursuits, but the truth is, I knew it was wrong. I’ve always known. Even after my father’s death, when Lex in his grief turned more to his mother than to me, but I…”

Her voice falls to a whisper. “I was neither strong nor powerful enough to stand against both of them.”

It sounds like an apology. One Kara has no doubt implied she wants but no longer requires from Lena.

Kara holds Lena tighter and kisses her temple. “I don’t think anyone is.”

The words feel inadequate - wrong. She thinks about her parents and allows herself this one moment to wonder how her people fare even though she will never know.

Kara has become a master at pushing unwelcome thoughts aside.

The fire burns low, and they sit in the silence and watch.


	19. CHAPTER 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and Lena find a new rhythm to their life together as the weeks marooned turn into months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/TW – NSFW. Mature content ahead.

** CHAPTER 18 **

_Day 171_

_“_ No, pivot this leg _here_ when you raise this arm _here._ ” Lena shifts Kara’s foot with her own boot as she moves Kara’s arm into position. “Feel how it centers your weight and makes it harder to shift you off balance now.”

Kara has known pain in her life. She’s known agony. She’s been near death and she’s been so stripped down and fatigued the thought of dying in her sleep sounded like a comfort, but she’s never felt this odd tingling bone-deep ache before.

It’s hard, but not necessarily bad. The low tones of Lena’s instruction sink through her skin into a part of her that wants to stretch past its limit, to do something she’s never done, to be someone she never thought she could be.

The light of early afternoon through patchy clouds casts short shadows on the clearing. Lena parallels the position beside Kara to demonstrate the series of movements in tandem yet again, her patience endless.

“Again. Slower this time.”

It takes hours for Kara to get it right, but finally, she’s able to complete the form without Lena’s aid.

That night, when they curl up together in the bunk that used to be Lena’s alone, Kara groans when she wraps her arms around Lena. It feels like she’s lifting rocks when all she’s done is try to get comfortable.

Lena laughs.

_Day 172_

Kara is more sore the next morning when Lena stirs.

“Wake up.” Lena shakes Kara’s shoulder.

“Go ahead.” Even a soft touch makes Kara want to groan. “I can’t move. I’ll take a massage when you get back, even if your hands are cold.”

Lena smacks Kara on the ass. “No more sleeping late. Now you get to join me.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink past the fog in Kara’s head, but then she perks up.

They dress quickly. Outside, the chilled dawn breeze makes Kara shiver and worsens the ache but a few clandestine stretches on her way to the ritual space keep her from groaning aloud.

Kara stands nearby while Lena marks her circle. Today, Lena adds a line behind it.

“Kneel here.”

Kara considers resisting out of pride then remembers it doesn’t serve her. She asked for this, and Lena has delivered. The proper respect is due.

Awkwardly, she lowers herself stiffly into place with only minor correction from Lena, and then watches Lena take her usual position within the circle.

“Repeat only the first two lines after me,” Lena says.

Kara takes a deep centering breath without prompting. Her training so far has ingrained that much.

“I have no mother, no father and no house to call my own. I have no shelter but the stars and no home but where I kneel.”

When Kara repeats the words, her voice clear and low from her diaphragm, an ache rises in her chest so potent it resonates through her entire body and steals her breath.

Tears fill her eyes at the truth of what she has spoken. She bites her lip and blinks the tears away.

_Day 189_

The shallow valley is the fourth one Kara has checked today, and the results are the same. She forces herself to shove her worry into a mental compartment to be revisited later.

Kara pushes her luck by staying on the hunt as long as she can as the day fades, but ultimately she relents and returns to the ship. For the last few days, she has seen no movement anywhere. Her only catch is a few tubers from the small scrub forest nearby, so at least she’s not returning empty handed.

They have plenty of dried meat stored thanks to Lena’s precaution, but they’re running low on fresh meat.

When she gets back, the fire is stacked for dinner but unlit. The sound of heavy breathing and clanking components draws her to where Lena is hard at work on the far side of the ship.

“Need a hand?” Kara can’t help but appreciate Lena’s exertion. Lena has tucked the sleeves of her tunic into themselves at her shoulders, and the taut muscles of her forearms and biceps are on display as she wrestles with unyielding bolts.

“No.” Lena pauses when the bolt gives way. “I’ve figured out how to realign the solar circuits so that they feed power to one of the filter flows.”

“You mean - “

“Hot water. Well, tepid water.”

Kara raises her eyebrows, impressed, but then sighs. “Well, that’s one win for the day.”

Now Lena looks at her, concern furrowing her brow. “Nothing?”

“No trace of them. No tracks, no scat. Not a damned thing. It’s like they’ve all gone underground.”

She’d considered the possibility that her hunting had made her prey leave the area, but they didn’t seem that smart, and she wasn’t the biggest predator - not if that creature she’d killed in the pit was any indication.

No, what’s more likely is that they’re in some sort of hibernation, which is a problem. Kara has no idea how long the seasons are on this moon, or how long they might have to go without an influx of meat into their stores.

“We could dry some more of the fresh meat that’s left,” Lena says.

Kara hums in agreement, but the ropy dried meat upsets her stomach and is far from appetizing. “How about I make stew tonight? We can look at rationing in the morning.”

Lena secures her tools and brushes dust and grime from her hands. “Spar while we wait?”

Kara smiles. Perhaps this time, she’ll gain the upper hand.

X – X – X – X – X

She doesn’t. Lena knocks Kara on her ass so many times, Kara is certain she has bone bruises.

Each time, Lena extends a hand to help her up, gives Kara a moment to recover and set herself, and then they spar again. She says Kara is improving, but Kara wonders if it’s only to ease her pride.

Then again, Lena doesn’t pull her punches anymore. At first, Lena only parried Kara’s blows. Then, as Kara got more familiar with the strikes, Lena would connect but with little force behind them.

Now, Lena connects and though she’s a little lighter than Kara, she hits harder. Her strikes are focused and powerful, and Kara has the bruises to prove it.

The next time she lands on her ass, she considers staying there, maybe sleeping in the dirt for the night.

Lena prods a leg with a boot. “Up. Let’s see if you can land one good hit before dinner.”

Kara grasps Lena’s outstretched hand and rises to her feet.

X – X – X – X – X

That night, when Kara lays herself on Lena’s bunk, she swears she can hear her joints creaking but bites back any complaint. It occurs to her that she’s never heard Lena complain about anything - not the weather, not their limited resources, not their circumstances, not even the fact that Kara is to blame for her being stranded on this asteroid.

Kara’s admiration of Lena grows.

Lena doesn’t lie down beside her.

Instead, Lena kneels next to Kara’s legs, wearing her pants but nothing else, her hair tied back. She rubs her hands together briskly, palms flat against each other, and then presses them against one of Kara’s thighs.

Kara gasps. Lena’s skin is hot and there’s no warning at all when Lena begins to massage her thigh, _hard._ It hurts, at first, but then the pain eases to an almost pleasurable ache.

Lena repeats the action over much of Kara’s body. Kara closes her eyes as the relief spreads, and a languorous hum sings in her muscles thanks to Lena’s ministrations.

When Lena stops, Kara sighs and then draws another breath to speak, to thank her, but then Lena kisses the skin just above her navel and the words never cross Kara’s lips.

The attention begins anew as Lena paints her body in kisses, some soft, some brief, but all-encompassing. Arousal sweeps through Kara, and then desire, but she waits for Lena, for Lena to finish, for Lena to have her way.

Lena is nothing if not diligent and attentive to detail. By the time Lena is done, Kara’s skin sings and aches.

Lena stretches alongside her and Kara rolls on top of her, wet and eager and straining against impatience, but Lena is in sync and pulls Kara’s thighs outside her own. Lena slides a hand between Kara’s legs and purrs at what she finds.

Kara can barely hold herself up, so deep is her fatigue, but she pulls from her waning energy reserves to raise her hips into position over Lena’s fingers, pushes herself over them and draws them inside.

Her nerves are over-sensitized, her skin hot where they touch. Sweat breaks out on her spine and she can’t breathe between kisses to Lena’s perfect lips so she gives up.

Kara speeds the rise and fall of her hips; Lena matches her and as one they strive for the same goal. When Kara comes, Lena doesn’t stop, and Kara’s pleasure expands, seeking a new height, fatigue forgotten.

Lena flips them over, sinks down Kara’s body, adds her tongue in delicious counterpoint, and Kara arches her back. She slides her hands into Lena’s hair, pulling her head closer, offers everything she has because now it’s not just her pleasure - Lena is asking something of her, Lena wants more, Lena demands her due with tongue and fingers and Kara is helpless and must obey.

This time when she comes, when she cries out it’s almost a keening for the person she used to be, someone she doesn’t recognize anymore because she’s so different now.

Lena’s thrusts slow, her brazen kisses against Kara’s hot flesh a benediction. Lena stills her fingers but doesn’t draw them out, rests her cheek on wiry thatch, hums without making sound and settles herself as if she has no intention of moving ever again.

The dark behind Kara’s eyes is welcome, the warmth of Lena’s skin against her a reward.

Kara is sanctified now, reborn.

****


	20. CHAPTER 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The difficult path before Kara and Lena grows ever darker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/TW Mild hunting gore. Self-harm. Food insecurity.

** CHAPTER 19 **

_Day 219_

For the first time in months, Kara wakes before Lena.

It’s still mostly dark but not for much longer. Kara doesn’t move – she wants to let Lena sleep, wants to lie in the abject hopelessness for a few moments before they get up and pretend that they can do anything about their fate.

The last of the fresh meat spoiled weeks ago. They halved their dried rations and then halved them again and now force themselves to only add a bit to the dinner soup.

Soon, they’ll be down to water and tubers. Kara travels further and further from camp to find any of the roots at all.

After everything they’ve been through, she can’t believe they’re going to starve to death.

Lena’s features are serious even in slumber. Her sleep is heavier lately, as if her body is eking as much rest as it can, as if sleep alone can refuel a body low on nutrients.

Kara doesn’t let herself cry at the injustice of it, that someone as strong as Lena can be broken by something so insidious as a lack of food.

When Lena stirs, Kara forces the sentiment down deep. They rise, dress, and begin the day. Outside, Lena’s limp is more pronounced. Her cheekbones show the hollows of her cheeks in stark relief. Lena is nothing but muscle and bone, but her strength has not yet waned and neither has her drive, but Kara has seen her wince more than once. Lena’s poorly-healed injury is bothering her again.

When they spar now, Lena adds philosophy to her tutoring. She talks a lot about focusing on the immediate challenge, the blow the enemy makes now as opposed to what they might do in the future. She talks about what can be controlled and what cannot, what can be affected and what is intractable and unchanging.

Kara wonders if Lena is teaching a lesson or convincing herself.

Though their prospects dim, Lena does not succumb to depression or inactivity. Even now, Lena sits away from the fire, her back to the ship, and hunches over some task that sounds like she’s scraping metal.

“What are you doing?” Kara asks from her place by the firepit.

Lena passes the metal over the stone a few more times before she pauses to respond. “Making something that will be needed soon.”

Kara doesn’t bother asking for clarification because if there’s one thing she knows about Lena, it’s that she uses the fewest words possible to express herself. If she intended to tell Kara what she was doing, she’d have done so.

Kara doesn’t have a lot of imagination or curiosity left to puzzle it out.

Though it’s a futile pursuit, though she hasn’t seen prey in weeks and the last two times, she didn’t even bring back tubers, Kara collects her hunting gear and a canteen full of water and silently leaves the canyon.

The scraping sound stops. Kara feels Lena’s gaze boring into her back.

X – X – X – X – X

Kara is forced to take more breaks. She tries to ration the water but it keeps the hunger pangs from twisting her guts and tempers the headaches. She moves more slowly than usual but covers ground more easily after months of experience climbing. Yet all her searching yields no more prey, and she’s forced to stop the hunt for today.

The thought of returning to Lena empty-handed, though…

In the distance, Kara sees the outlines of trees. Where there are trees, there may be scrub brush. Where there’s scrub brush, there may be edible roots.

She adjusts her load and points her aching feet in that direction.

X – X – X – X – X

“How, Lena?” Kara fights her own despair that night. Her muscles ache, her stomach hurts, her head is tight from holding back tears. “How can you just…keep going?”

They choose the comfort of skin and the warmth of clinging to one another at night over the insulation of layers between them. Lena is pressed against Kara’s side, her head tucked into Kara’s shoulder and her arm across Kara’s belly.

Lena sighs. “I learned long ago to focus on what I can control, to not let myself get too overwhelmed by things I can’t affect. Today, we had enough to survive. We’re still here. Tomorrow, we’ll rise and begin anew.”

It’s simple, the way she says it, and yet it’s so immense it astounds Kara.

“Once I thought my mother was the strongest woman I’d ever known.” Kara speaks in a rasp not much louder than a whisper. It takes less effort than normal speech. “When no one else did, she believed in a vision for the future that held possibility and promise.”

Kara shifts her legs, searching for a position that doesn’t strain her back. “Later, Alex - “

She pauses, waiting for the ache at her sister’s name, but it doesn’t come. She wonders for a moment if her grief has eased, but then thinks she’s just too tired and weak to give in to it. “Alex seemed to be the epitome of that same strength.”

“Alex?”

Lena still doesn’t know.

It’s the one thing Kara can’t resolve. Her feelings for Lena despite Alex’s death, her anger at Alex’s death despite her feelings for Lena – and when Kara can’t solve it, she pushes it down, just like her shame at failing her parents and her people.

And so Kara keeps all things Krypton to herself. She doesn’t talk about the people she’s known. She hasn’t offered to teach Lena a single word of Kryptonian for fear that even such a little thing might be the key to the box she fights to keep closed.

And yet…

“Commander Alexandra Danvers. Her parents are the ones who raised me when my parents died. She led the fleet across the outer rim from Ragan to Krypton. Backbone of iron, that one. Stubborn as hell. Never let me get away with anything.” It warms Kara to say this, the first thought of Alex that doesn’t hurt deeply enough to bite.

“And what happened to her?”

Kara doesn’t want to tell her, doesn’t want to bring one more thing between them that can’t be changed and hurts so much. She considers glossing over it, but as the days pass, as Lena becomes more a part of her, it makes it that much harder to keep that box closed.

“She was on the bridge of the _Alura_ when - when the blast from your ship most likely destroyed it.”

A gasp in the dark, a clenching of the hand at her waist, and then Lena starts to pull away.

Kara holds her in place, kisses Lena’s temple. “You would not have been allies, but you are similar in so many ways.”

The silence stretches and then Lena speaks in a pained whisper. “How can you not hate me for this? For what I have taken from you, from what has become of you?”

Kara doesn’t want to minimize her response, to mutter platitudes that Lena might suspect to be untrue. She weighs her words carefully, stroking her hand down Lena’s back to ask for patience while she figures it out.

“I...” The truth washes over her, surprising her with its power. “I’m not sure I’d trade where I am now for my old life, though of course I want Alex back, but I - I am…”

She doesn’t want to say she’s happy, because she’s not. She’s terrified and empty and all that seems to be left of her is a newfound core that is unwilling to concede. Some cold, dark part of her is secretly grateful that she doesn’t have to choose because...this time and place with Lena…it has more value to her than anything she’s ever held before.

Kara is too weak and tired and despondent to think about what that says of her, about how that betrays Alex’s memory. And what does it all matter when it’s all impossible? Her anger and grief won’t bring back her sister, but also…

“I belong here,” she says, finally, and it’s nowhere near enough, not even close to right, nowhere close to the thing she wants to say. “With you.”

When Lena turns her head to bring them face to face, the minuscule light glints on the tears in Lena’s eyes. Kara closes her eyes at the feel of Lena’s lips against her own and tastes the salt she herself cannot spare.

_Day 220_

The next day, over half a day’s walk from the ship, Kara sees movement in some rocks near the valley floor. 

Threat of famine makes her run when she should be silent, but she doesn’t want her prey to get away. She’s not quick enough, and by the time she catches up to the creature, it’s crawled into a hovel where she can’t reach.

She hears scratching and skittering behind boulders too large for her to move. If she tries to use her spear as leverage, the wood will most likely break.

Kara wonders if she can draw the creature back out, but has nothing to use as bait.

When she finally gets the idea, she’s certain it’s insanity borne of desperation but it doesn’t matter.

She crouches near the hole and bares one arm.

Though she’s seen Lena do this countless times, Kara hesitates with her knife over her arm. It’s not as easy as it looks. It takes several painful tries, made more difficult somehow by the thinness of her skin, but she finally cuts well enough for blood to bead.

It’s not enough. She hisses at the pain of tearing her own skin to make the gash wider.

Kara leans her bleeding arm over the ground in front of the hole, squeezes a fist to encourage more blood to flow down her arm and into the sand.

The scratching gets louder. Forced to make a decision to commit or give up, she stretches herself out in front of the hole, far enough away that the creature will have to reveal itself if it wants what it smells.

Finally, the shield-back comes to the hole. Kara fights against her fear and her urge to move. She has to wait for the creature to clear the opening entirely before she attacks or it will just skitter back inside.

Its antenna are inches from her face. One claw grabs her bleeding arm. Before it can lock, perhaps doing irreparable damage, she tugs, brings her spear to bear and stabs at its unprotected face, blinking against the blood and whatever else squirts out when she pulls the spear back, then stabs again.

Her weakness makes for a messy kill. Over and over she jabs at the shield-back until its claw releases, and then she shoves herself to her knees, dragging the thing further away from its hovel, flipping it over and stabbing it again.

She stops when she’s spent, hoping the thing is close enough to death that she doesn’t have to do any more.

When it stills, Kara bleeds it where it lies, lets the blood pool while she tries to catch her breath.

By the time she’s prepared the kill for travel, the sun is setting. She hangs her head, exhausted, but doesn’t wait long. It’s a long way back.

Finally, she turns toward home and puts one foot in front of the other, eyes on the next pile of stones.


	21. CHAPTER 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara rises to new challenges.

** CHAPTER 20 **

They force themselves to ration their bounty. Even so, the soup they make in the middle of that night is almost too much. Kara sits, clutching her belly, willing herself to keep the food down.

Lena is so unsteady once she eats some of the soup, she doesn’t leave their bunk for most of the next day. Neither of them is able to eat solid meat for a couple of days, and not much beyond the kim venu gets done around the camp.

Kara is diligent, however, about preserving the meat and making sure none of it goes to waste. If her hunting doesn’t yield results for a few more weeks, they’ll survive until then. The looming threat of starvation has been averted for now, and they slowly recover.

Many days later, when they’ve regained their strength well enough to spar again, Kara resumes her suffering at Lena’s more skilled hands. The time it takes Lena to get the best of her, however, grows. Kara still gets her ass handed to her, but more often than not they break away from each other and regroup, Lena unable to get the upper hand.

Until one afternoon when one bout is more even than usual.

Drenched in sweat and focused on Lena’s movement, Kara no longer thinks. She parries one of Lena’s combination attacks, spins as she lowers herself to the ground and sweeps Lena’s legs out from under her. Lena stops her fall from doing any damage to the back of her head, but her surprise is audible.

Kara steps back, breathing heavily, blows a few strands of hair from her eyes and then smiles. Lena arches an eyebrow in acknowledgement and begins to rise. Kara stretches out a hand to help her up.

Lena nods her head at the achievement and they both take their positions for the next engagement. “Do it again,” she says, “and I’ll cook dinner.”

X - X - X - X - X

After dinner, Lena says words Kara doesn’t understand.

“Your halem venu begins at sunset tomorrow.”

Lena explains that it’s a solitary quest of a sort, but when Kara hears that she’s expected to live in the wilderness for two days, she is confused.

When no additional details are forthcoming, she asks about objectives.

“Do I need to bring back something?”

“No.” Lena checks a pot boiling some shield-back sinew.

“Do I need to go anywhere in particular?”

“The goal is to be unassisted, but even though we’re the only ones here, I doubt the rocks will make it any easier for you.”

“What can I take with me?”

“Two days rations, water and your spears.”

Kara is waiting for the catch, but judging by the way Lena is acting, there isn’t one.

_Day 222_

Kara finds a near-perfect place to sleep not too far from camp the first night of her expedition - one with a nook for her to rest near a tiny clearing for a small fire.

It takes her awhile to fall asleep, mostly from boredom. She thinks of books and misses them, not that she’d had much time to read for pleasure in the fleet.

She stares at the stars, warmed by the fire, surprised to discover that she’s enjoying this time with nothing to do. She doubts the ritual quest is supposed to feel like vacation, but it does, and with her mind clear and her belly full, she relaxes and eventually closes her eyes.

_Day 223_

The next day, she wonders how to thank Lena. Lena has asked for nothing and has not suggested that any thanks is required by tradition, but Kara wants to do something nice for her anyway, not that she has any idea what that might be.

Her wandering takes her near the lake, and she decides that a half-swim half-bath might not be a bad way to spend the afternoon. It’s not a hot day, but the water is tepid enough to endure for a short time, as long as she’s smart about it.

She strips, ignores the first few shivers and submerges herself.

Kara is cautious and sticks to the shallows, though they’ve never seen any creatures of any kind here. She floats on her back, the sun warming her naked front. Though she wants to stay longer, she’s fairly certain her quest shouldn’t involve hypothermia.

When she steps into the gravel at the lake’s edge, an idea comes to her in a flash and she searches for flat stones no wider than her thumb. A few strips from her ever-decaying flight suit in hand, she begins work on what she hopes will be a welcome gift.

_Day 224_

When Kara comes to the fire at sunset, Lena waits in the ritual space though she has not yet drawn her circle. Kara starts to kneel in what’s now her usual place behind Lena, but Lena stops her.

“Stand here.” Lena points to a spot a few steps to the side of and one step behind where she kneels every night.

Kara does as she’s told, and though she’s curious about this change, she keeps her questions to herself.

Lena comes to stand before Kara and looks into her eyes a long time. Kara is not discomfited and meets the gaze steadily, though she’s not sure what’s happening.

Lena reaches behind herself and draws from her waist a roughly constructed dagger. The hilt is a finely sanded warp of shield, the ties binding it to the blade made of boiled sinew and strips of Lena’s tunic. The blade itself is a remnant of Lena’s ship, a hunk of warped hull detritus that has been edged and sharpened so that the length of one side is sharp enough to split hair.

It is nowhere near as fine as Lena’s blade. Instead, it is a stark reminder of what they have experienced here on this moon, but it is no less deadly in its functionality.

Lena holds it across her palms and raises it between them.

“This blade is an extension of you. It is your heart and so you carry it with you everywhere you are without exception. If you are naked, it is close at hand.”

So, all these months of Lena sleeping with hers close by have been more from training than vigilance.

Lena places the blade in Kara’s hands.

“I thought my trials difficult at the time, and they were, but what you have accomplished here…you must never question what you have done to earn this blade or what it represents.”

Kara understands what Lena means – and that Lena holds this blade in an esteem similar to the way she carries her own. Lena has been limited by the materials at her disposal and the dagger is rugged and crude, but that doesn’t matter to Kara because Lena made it with her own hands.

Kara would treasure it forever based on that alone.

After a moment, Lena steps away and begins to mark the ritual’s circle.

“The circle represents the locus of what you affect. Within it are all the things within your control including your own mindset. Beyond it are things your action cannot change.

“Be vigilant, stay aware of those things, for your ability to affect them may become possible over time and under different circumstances, but focus your action on the things within the circle.”

Lena is answering questions Kara has had for months, not just about this ritual, but also about the kind of person Lena is - this woman who has never complained about their predicament but instead focused on how to endure it, how to improve it, how to survive within their terrible constraints.

She points at Kara to mark her own circle and Kara mirrors her actions.

Lena gracefully lowers herself to her knees. “We kneel for the kim venu because regardless of birthright or status, we are not all powerful.”

Kara doesn’t need this explained. She’s lived it most of her life.

Lena speaks the words of the ritual. Kara memorized them months before, but as she says them now, they somehow strengthen her resolve to live on, to face another day, to walk forward whether she knows where the steps lead or not.

When Lena draws the blade across her arm, Kara does the same and finds nothing barbaric or foreign about the gesture. She’s bled more than once to serve something greater than herself and this is no different. In fact, this is something worth far more.

Kara stares into the setting sun, her blade raised before her eyes, her arm stinging from the new cut, but her hands do not tremble.

Kara hopes she is worthy.

She lowers her arms when Lena does, wipes her blood on her leg and secures her new blade at her waist. She’ll have to build a sheath for it, something she can tie to herself for everyday use.

Lena smiles at her, a wide one full of perfect teeth and perfect lips, and it shines in her eyes. Kara breathes in something sweet that she can’t name.

The pride Kara feels is not arrogant, not the expansive better-than-someone-else pride of winning a competition, not the birthright her parents claimed on her behalf, not the pride of a destiny her sister insisted belonged to her.

This is the pride of hard work well executed. She has earned this with her own sweat, her tears and her blood. When she stands, her weight is centered over a solid stance, strong, unyielding, immovable.

Kara is who she is, and no one can take that away from her.


	22. CHAPTER 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena shares her first impressions of Kara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/TW NSFW. Mature content ahead.

** CHAPTER 21 **

Kara caresses Lena’s skin, follows the lines of scars and blemishes with her fingertips, kisses her favorite places that just happen to be the ones that make Lena gasp or moan. She pauses between each touch, watching its effect with a hyper-vigilant awareness as Lena arches or tenses or sighs.

When Kara can hold herself back no longer, she pushes herself down Lena’s body until she rests between Lena’s legs. She splays her hands against firm muscular thighs and lowers her mouth with an eager groan.

Kara feasts, communicating with her lips and tongue everything she has no words for. She takes her time, unsatisfied until Lena sinks her hands into Kara’s hair and pulls none too gently, until Lena’s thighs tremble and her hips arch, until Lena comes calling Kara’s name, until Kara’s thrusting her fingers in tandem, until Lena cries out again.

She doesn’t move until Lena’s breathing evens out, until the pulse she feels in Lena’s body is no longer racing. Kara rises over Lena’s body and the air cools the sweat on her skin. She wipes her chin in blatant carnal satisfaction and smears the wet across her chest, smiling down as she holds herself over her prey, her hair falling like a curtain around their faces.

There’s wonder in Lena’s eyes out of sync with her earlier passion, and it stills Kara where she hovers.

Her question must be written on her face, because Lena speaks.

“I - I wish you could see what I see. The woman you are now.”

Kara lowers herself to kiss Lena’s neck. The scent at Lena’s pulse point makes Kara want to start their coupling anew. “Am I really so different?”

She knows she’s physically stronger and emotionally more patient than she was before Lena’s training, but she wonders what other changes Lena has noticed in her over time.

Lena wraps her arms around Kara, slides her palms low on Kara’s back to mold themselves to Kara’s hips.

“The first time I saw you, you were - “

It’s rare that Lena fights for words, but Kara is nothing now if not patient. She kisses the join of Lena’s neck and shoulder while she waits.

“Fury.”

Surprise pulls Kara away so she can see Lena’s face more clearly. Lena frowns as if that’s not quite right either but presses on.

“You were this _manifestation_ of pure fury that I thought might destroy me from its force alone.” She reaches to twist tendrils of Kara’s hair around her fingers, appraising Kara as if comparing this version of her with her past. “You were wounded, hungry, your lips and skin broken from wind and dehydration. Your weapon was no match for mine, you had no skill at all and yet I knew, I knew to the core of me that if you tried to kill me then, we’d have been evenly matched.”

That’s not how Kara remembers it. She’d been angry, yes, but so weak she doubts she’d have been able to raise a hand for anything past a first blow. And Lena - she had been the epitome of an undefeatable foe - fierce yet placid, deadly yet serene. Untouchable.

Kara doesn’t think about those days much, not anymore. Though it’s been less than a year, it seems eons ago, back when she hated Lena with everything she had, when she only thought of vengeance, when she was more driven by fear and desperation than she might have wanted to admit.

But now…

This sweeping, visceral _need_ she has for Lena cannot be encapsulated by a term as simple as love. She has fought for Lena, killed for Lena, long ago made the decision that she was willing to die by Lena’s side.

It’s far more than that, now. If Lena abruptly decided to raise her blade and cut Kara to the core, Kara doesn’t even think she’d fight back.

What she feels for Lena cannot possibly be contained in a single word.

A pensive frown furrows Lena’s brow.

“Now, it’s as if that molten fury has been forged into - “

Lena reaches for Kara’s face, clasps her chin firmly but with a gentleness that steals Kara’s breath. “This strength, _your_ strength, your power, Kara.” Lena shakes her head in disbelief. “You shine with it. It pulses through you and sometimes I..I feel like it burns me.”

Kara stares into Lena’s eyes as Lena frowns again, as if her words have failed, but Kara thinks she understands. Her face close to Lena’s now, Kara traces the elegant line of Lena’s feral jaw with one finger, then brushes her thumb along Lena’s lips barely feeling their warmth. She keeps her touch light, trying to memorize the precise curve of their bow until she can’t resist them any longer.

The kiss is measuring and deep as every touch prior, a slow but almost animal call and response that their hips soon match until they’re touching all along their lengths.

Lena flips them over, clenches their hands together and pushes Kara’s arms overhead until they lie flat, and then Lena takes her turn. She caresses Kara as if she’s made of glass - precious, breakable - somehow gentle even when the touches are rough.

Kara can’t keep her eyes open against the onslaught. When she opens them again much later, Kara sees something new on Lena’s face. It’s like the earlier wonder, but with something else - something like admiration but more raw, something not demanding but pleading - and whatever it is, it renders a blow wide in Kara’s chest, as if everything she is has bared itself. She is exposed, fraught but somehow jubilant, wild and it’s all for Lena.

Her breath comes faster. The pleasure grows, drawing through the muscles in her thighs, a screaming intense wave that crashes into her clit and blossoms deep inside her. She arches her back, wants to close her eyes before the tears fall, but Lena grabs her hair with her other hand, clenching against her scalp -

“Stay with me. “

\- holding Kara’s head in place and Kara forces her eyes wide as she cries out, as the pleasure fails to crest and just grows until her whole body is aflame and weightless, pulsing in time with the contractions pounding inside her, and the moment it begins to wane, Lena kisses her, mouth open, tongue and teeth claiming what little Kara has left to give.

_Day 225_

Light bends through the holes in the ship when Kara wakes the next morning, Lena dressing by her side. She wears the token Kara gave her - a simple bracelet of stones woven in strands stripped from Kara’s flight suit - around her wrist and offers a small smile as she pulls on her boots.

Kara stretches with a groan and starts to lift herself from where she lies on her stomach but Lena stops her with a touch to her shoulder.

“Rest. Traditionally, an elevated acolyte has endured rigorous trials over the course of their halem venu. Upon completion, they’re allowed a day of rest without ritual observations.”

She kisses Kara, a slow deep exploration that stirs Kara’s desire.

“That’s not restful,” Kara says when they part, but lies back down.

“At least you don’t have to get up.” She fetches her blade and holsters her pistol, more from habit than any threat they’ve ever seen, and smiles before she opens the door.

Kara closes her eyes when the door shuts. She burrows into the remaining warmth from Lena’s body heat, completely relaxed despite the mild unsettled feeling of missing the morning ritual. How quickly it has become a habit for her.

Her mind is clear, her worries gone. The lassitude from a long night full of Lena’s affection warms her insides as she sinks into a delicious half-sleep.

A loud rushing sound like a violent wind pulls her from her dozing but when it stops, she thinks it’s a dream.

Moments later, she hears voices. _A lot_ of voices _,_ of men who speak in authoritarian Luthori.

She sits up, instantly alert but confused and alarmed. Adrenaline freezes her when she hears Lena’s footsteps - a gait she has memorized - near the door. When it opens, Lena appears but she’s looking back the way she’s come.

“One moment,” she says, emotionless and cold, and Kara realizes Lena isn’t speaking to her.

“Yes, High One,” a man says, and it sounds like he’s right outside the door. “Stand down!”

Another voice, far away, acknowledges him. Kara reaches for her blade, the shock staving off all other thought as she prepares to leap into the unknown.

Lena steps inside, makes a fast movement with one hand using the signals she taught Kara for combat and hunting.

_Be silent and still._

Lena unholsters her pistol and sets it on a nearby shelf. For a moment she rests her hand on her blade’s hilt at her hip as if to draw it, but then turns without another word or a single glance in Kara’s direction and walks out the door.

Kara waits, unmoving but arms straining against action, trusting Lena’s warning as she listens to her footsteps fade. She counts her heartbeats, forcing herself not to follow.

Then the rushing sound - an engine, a ship’s _engine -_ roars and rapidly fades away. She hears no more voices.

Kara can’t wait any longer. She dresses without fastening anything, grabs her blade and leaps barefoot for the door.

When she steps outside, nothing is amiss. Nothing is different – not the firepit or the work area under the wing or the boundary wall at the edge of the canyon, but…a shocking number of boot prints mark the dirt and sand. The men who made them are gone and the ship is nowhere in sight.

Lena is gone.


	23. CHAPTER 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone, bereft, Kara ruminates her fate.

** CHAPTER 22 **

All day, Kara is too stunned to do much of anything except wait. Thoughts swirl and fade and nothing takes hold as she sits at the firepit and stares out the canyon into the sky waiting for the ship to return.

It doesn’t.

By the time she comes back to herself, the fire is nothing but smoke and charred embers and it is late afternoon. Her throat is parched from thirst and her hungry stomach aches, but she doesn’t think she can eat anything.

She realizes with some shame she has not only missed the morning ritual but the mid-day one as well, and now it’s almost sunset.

The circle from Lena’s kim venu that morning is still etched in the sand.

Kara draws her circle beside it and kneels, speaks the ritual words in little more than a whisper. Her eyes blur when she cuts against her arm but not from the tiny physical pain. She lets the breeze dry her tears before they fall as she holds her dagger before her.

She wonders what the measure of her worthiness might be, if the ease of her halem venu will now be paid for in this new isolation.

That night, she sits by the fire far later than is her habit, but she feels no pull to sleep. More than once, Kara turns expecting to see Lena only to be brutally reminded anew she is alone.

Lena will come for her. It’s only a matter of time.

X – X – X – X - X

The next morning, Kara awakens with a start when she doesn’t feel Lena next to her. When her heartbeat slows, she thinks about everything that happened the morning before.

Lena would only have told her to stay back if she thought Kara was in danger. Maybe Lena didn’t think the Luthorian soldiers would listen to any explanations. Maybe she was afraid they’d arrest Kara or worse, kill her on sight. Maybe they thought Lena was compromised, and had taken _Lena_ into custody —

And then Kara takes into account who Lena is.

A royal. A royal within arm’s reach of ruling Luthori Prime. It had only been a matter of time before they came for her.

Kara feels like an idiot for not having at least considered it before.

For a long moment, Kara fears the impossibility of a Luthorian princess lowering herself to come back and rescue a Kryptonian rebel, but then she remembers who they are to each other and severs that line of thought.

Lena _will_ come for her.

In preparation for her imminent exodus, Kara begins to secure the camp. There’s not much she’d want to take with her, but she still organizes all the projects in progress on the worktable, tosses what little sinew and bones remain into the fire.

The day passes, broken only by ritual and minimal meals but by nightfall, nothing has changed.

Perhaps Lena will return for her tomorrow.

X – X – X – X - X

Kara can’t bring herself to clear Lena’s circle. By the fourth day, some of the outline has been erased by the wind, and she doesn’t want to mark it herself because Lena made it, and —

Kara is disgusted at herself. She’s become pathetic.

Lena will not leave her here. Kara is not doomed to spend the rest of her life alone on this rock. She knows Lena, she trusts Lena, but pretending to ward off the fear Lena will not come is easier because it hides the deeper terror.

As a royal heir, Lena may not come herself. In fact, it’s entirely plausible that while Lena will see to it Kara is rescued, she is most likely bound for the core systems of Luthori Prime.

 _That’s_ the thought that terrifies Kara, and she buries it deeper than anything that’s ever hurt her before this. Not being marooned here, not Alex’s death, not the death of her own parents - all those marrow-deep pains pale in comparison to this.

She may never see Lena again.

Kara bites her lip, hard, hoping the pain will keep the tears from forming. If she starts crying, she’ll never be able to stop, but not giving in hurts and trying to do anything else hurts and it all just _hurts_.

She wraps her arms around her middle and surrenders to the sobs. If it feels like weakness, so be it. There’s no one to see anyway.

At sundown, she marks what remains of Lena’s circle with stones.

X – X – X – X - X

Each night, she practices forms in the dark until she can’t raise her arms and her legs tremble from the exertion. It doesn’t make her fall asleep any faster, but the exhaustion keeps her from tossing and turning. Instead, she lies inside the ship curled with her back against the bulkhead, closes her eyes and listens to the wind whistle through the holes in the hull. Sometimes she counts her breaths. Sometimes she mentally recites the kim venu _._

Sometimes, she mentally recites the kim venu but in Lena’s voice.

X – X – X – X - X

Kara wonders what she has done to incur Rao’s disfavor. Is that what this is? One catastrophe after another her whole life - has she been cursed?

Is it because she’s learned the martial path of her enemy? She doesn’t think of Lena that way anymore, but Lena is still Luthorian and perhaps that’s how Rao sees it, too.

Kara has endured more difficult times than even heroes in stories have lived through. She tries to think of moments that had been cause for celebration and there aren’t many. The elation she’s felt here on a few occasions with Lena seem to be the most prevalent in her memory, which makes her ache all over again, but she ponders her life before.

Was it something else she’s done that merited this punishment, this endless suffering after years of one trial after another? Is there something about her that warrants the absence of joy?

If that’s true, how can she repent and redeem herself if she doesn’t know how she has sinned?

When she’s more rational, she knows none of these things are true, but her emotions get the better of her the more time passes.

It does not stop her from kneeling three times a day and raising her blade. If perhaps she’s asking Rao for worthiness, no one else will ever know.

X – X – X – X - X

The silence is maddening. Kara went hours without speaking in Lena’s company and it rarely bothered her, but this solitary quiet unsettles her. She’s alarmed into alertness every time a pebble shifts.

By the third week, she’s unpacked some of the items she secured in hopes of an imminent departure. Her dwindling food supplies force her to go hunting, but she doesn’t venture far for her quarry. Since she’s the only one eating she dries most of the meat, but since her appetite has waned, she can’t eat half as much as she normally does.

Once the food stores are addressed, she explores known territory, verifying nothing has changed. She tells herself it’s to make sure no new predators have encroached, but it’s really boredom and fear. After she trips and falls flat on her face from moving too quickly in one direction without checking for obstacles first, she slows down. Luckily, she’s uninjured, but when she remembers she’s alone and no one can help her if something more serious happens, it puts another damper on her mood.

She returns to camp and takes her old position on the wing of the ship with a plan to sit and attempt to meditate until it’s time for the kim venu. The sadness creeps in again, the ache for the sound of Lena working at the table below, and she pushes the pain down deep. Nothing can be done. She must focus on something else.

The mid-afternoon sky is partly cloudy. Kara watches the clouds form and dissipate and occupies her mind with the puzzle of getting more firewood from the nearby forest considering she must complete the task with extra caution.

Movement in the distant sky catches her eye. A fast-moving hazy cloud turns into a slow-moving rock before the light glints off it and reveals it to be a ship.

Kara leaps to her feet, stares at it long enough to convince herself it’s not her imagination. A ship is here and while she watches, it adjusts trajectory and veers directly toward her position. She knows who it is, who it has to be, and blinks away tears as her hope swells, proven.

Lena has come for her.

Right after that thought comes another: Lena may not be alone.

Kara leaps to the ground and takes precautions. She checks the charge on the pulse pistol, cinches up the loose straps and connectors on her flight suit, makes sure her dagger is cocked for easy draw. She fetches her spears though they likely won’t do her much good. Still, it feels right to have them close by, to be armed as well as she can be.

By the time the small craft lands in a clearing not far from the canyon, Kara has identified the markings that classify it as a Luthorian transit shuttle with only enough capacity for a small squad.

There are no visible armaments, but Kara still crouches behind a boulder in a defensible position. Lena will most likely disembark first, no matter who is with her, but Kara wants to give the terms of engagement to Lena. Kara will wait for Lena to call her forward before she reveals herself, just in case.

The wide door that makes up the stern of the ship disengages with a loud clang and hiss. As it lowers, a single female figure is revealed, dressed not in the dark Luthorian garb that Lena wore but in a stark white spotless version of Kara’s filthy flight suit.

Kara steps out from behind the rock, her shock making her careless as the woman removes her helmet.

Alex stares back, eyes wide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damned near made myself cry twice with this one.


	24. CHAPTER 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, Kara’s life is turned upside-down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Act III! Time to address some of those loose threads.
> 
> (And if you’re enjoying this story, please consider subscribing to my username and checking out some of my other stories.)

** CHAPTER 23 **

Kara can’t move but Alex does. By the time Kara has convinced herself this isn’t some kind of fever dream, Alex has closed the distance between them, her eyes bright with tears.

“It’s true. You’re alive.” Alex drops her helmet to the ground and crashes into Kara. She wraps her arms around Kara so tightly, Kara can’t do the same.

Alex pulls away and holds her by the shoulders. ”We couldn’t find any wreckage after the battle but we knew you hadn’t been incinerated. We searched but your trail was lost and…”

The words speed up and Kara doesn’t catch them all because she’s staring at Alex. Alex, who is living and breathing and right in front of her. It can’t be her imagination. This has to be real because Alex doesn’t look the same at all.

Her hair is longer and more red than brown. Her skin is darker than the pale Kara remembers. She has freckles now across her nose and cheeks. She looks vibrant and well and so far from dead, Kara can’t form words until suddenly she can.

“I thought the bridge was destroyed! All this time I thought…wait, how are you even here?” Rationality returns, splashing through her like water. “How did you find me?”

Confusion and hesitancy slow Alex’s speech. “That’s a…weird story. Why don’t I tell you on the way back?”

“Back?”

Kara nearly falls over when it hits her. She’s leaving this place. Alex is here to rescue her and get her off this rock, never to return.

The sudden pang for Lena slams into her gut, but some small voice of warning, of caution keeps Kara from asking about Lena, from mentioning her name at all.

“Rao, look at you, Kara.” There’s horror and pity in Alex’s eyes and it adds to the unease that grows in Kara’s guts. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.”

With Alex’s pristine appearance as comparison, Kara looks down at her clothes with new perspective. Though she’s done her best to keep the tattered flight suit clean, the many bloodstains are permanent as are some of the deeper strains of dirt. Punctures and tears, both accidental and deliberate, have torn away sections of the arms and legs.

Uncovered skin is scratched and scarred, including the neat lines made with her blade every time she performs her kim venu _._ Today’s marks have scabbed over but are still red.

Kara looks like she’s been through a war, and she has. Each scar demonstrates her will to survive, but she wonders how Alex sees her now compared to the memory she must have of the Kara from all those months ago.

“Well, let’s get you out of here. I can’t wait to show you our new home.” Alex turns toward her ship, pulling Kara by the hand.

“Wait.” Kara can’t just leave. Not yet. “I need to…” What word could possibly describe what she has to do? “I need to prepare.”

Kara can’t decipher the look on Alex’s face as she lets go of Kara’s hand, but at least it’s not an argument. When Kara turns back toward the canyon, she hears and feels Alex follow behind her, her presence the most foreign thing she’s experienced in months.

The walk back isn’t a long one but time feels like it’s speeding up, strengthened by the surreal feeling of Alex’s company. They’re side by side when Alex stops at the boundary wall and stares with wide eyes in a way that makes Kara uncomfortable.

“This is where you’ve been living all this time?” Alex stands immobile with her mouth hanging open.

Kara shrugs but she doesn’t think Alex sees. “Not at first, but…yes.” She waits for the obvious question - whether she’s been here alone - but it doesn’t come.

The first thing Kara does is put out the fire. It would burn out on its own, but it feels like a symbolic gesture.

And then her steps slow as she evaluates everything she sees. All the contraptions she and Lena constructed over the last several months that have saved or improved their lives won’t be needed on a spaceship. Kara’s people are colonizing Krypton; they’ll have far better equipment.

All the painstakingly collected shields, the carefully crafted tools and makeshift contraptions. Either all of it is valuable enough to come with her or all of it should be left behind.

“Is that a Luthorian light cruiser?”

Kara’s so used to the upside-down ship she’s forgotten about its origins. “Yes. My fighter crashed a couple days walk from here and there was little salvage. I - I followed the smoke to this ship.”

The odd feeling inside her gets worse. She should be happier about Alex’s arrival, about the fact that Alex is alive…and she is, but Alex feels different. Kara herself feels different, and the woman who has been a sister most of her life feels like a stranger.

Maybe later Kara will fill in the details she’s omitting now, but not yet. Not when the emotions are so close to the surface, she thinks she might shake apart. One thing at a time, and right now, she needs to prepare to leave.

She rests her spear by the door and climbs inside the ship, eyes adjusting quickly to the wan light.

“What in Rao’s name is all this?” Alex’s disdainful voice gives Kara pause. She leans out the door to see Alex peering at the meat drying rack, at the rudimentary tools on the workbench, and the broken components Kara no longer needs to repair.

Alex turns her head, wrinkling her nose at whatever she smells. “It’s a wonder you survived like this at all.”

“Considering the many ways I could have died here, this place has been a haven for me.”

Alex looks at her with something like chagrin and visibly sighs. “I am grateful you’re alive, Princess.”

Yet another jolt hits Kara and for a long moment, she considers the life she left behind and what it will mean to return to it.

She forces herself to focus on what she can control now, not what might be later.

Inside the ship, Kara looks around but she knows what she’ll find. There’s nothing here that speaks to the time spent in Lena’s arms. No token or memento save the threadbare blankets of a bed she’ll never share with Lena again.

But that’s not true. She has Lena’s pulse pistol in a holster strapped to her thigh, and she has the knife Lena made for her.

The need for its constancy makes her draw the blade and hold it in her hands.

“Do you really need that thing anymore?” Disapproval drips from Alex’s lips.

Anger flashes through Kara though she doesn’t speak.

Perhaps the expression on Kara’s face is more transparent than she realizes, because Alex takes a full step back, one arm raised in defense.

“Sorry, I just…I mean, it looks like…well, where we’re going you won’t really need that kind of weapon. You sure?” Her tone is more polite, but the damage is done.

Kara slides her knife back into place and rests her hand on the handle for a moment before letting her hand fall.

“Yes,” she says, because explaining will take hours and she’s nowhere near ready to talk about that yet. The more she thinks about it, the more she wants to keep her life with Lena to herself.

Alex nods, her brow furrowed.

When Kara shuts the door of the ship, the finality of it nearly breaks her. The smoke of the fire has waned, and Kara looks around one more time but she knows she’s delaying the inevitable.

She can’t leave, though, without stopping at the ritual space one more time.

It’s only a span of dirt, but it helped build her into who she is now. _Lena_ helped build her, helped heal her, helped Kara become someone new. Someone who can face the unknown of returning to her old life.

Alex is probably wondering why she’s staring at the ground.

Kara drops down to one knee, touches the stones as she looks for any faint marks that remain from the circle Lena drew. She needs to go, she _wants_ to go, to be reunited with her people, to not be _here_ anymore, but she doesn’t want to leave. Leaving means putting everything she shared here with Lena behind her and she’s not ready for that.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever be ready for that.

“What are you doing?” Alex asks, hesitant but not unkind.

Kara closes her eyes. She tries to imagine how she looks, down on one knee staring at a circle of rocks in the sand, but Alex won’t understand.

Kara pictures Lena drawing her blade across her arm and raising it to the sky.

Before it gets to be too much, before the ache in her chest can manifest into the tears that burn behind her eyes, Kara stands and turns toward the shuttle.

“Saying goodbye.”

X – X – X – X – X

It occurs to Kara as they’re boarding that Alex never answered her question.

“How did you find me?”

Alex begins the pre-flight check. The shuttle’s engines hum and Kara flinches at the vibration. She knows there’s nothing wrong, but it’s been forever since she felt the normal start-up sequence of a ship.

Alex dances her fingers with familiarity over the various buttons and switches. “Three days ago, we received an anonymous relay from Luthori Prime. All the message contained was your name and these coordinates.”

Lena.

Kara swallows and her heart feels like it’s pounding a path out of her chest. “Three days?”

“I thought it was a trap. We argued about it until I finally decided to take the risk. No matter the cost, I had to know what it meant.”

“The cost?

“The Luthorian occupation ended abruptly three weeks ago, and -“

“Occupation?” Kara knows she’s just repeating words back to Alex but can’t find anything intelligent to say.

Alex enters a set of coordinates and takes the guiding stick. “Let me get off this rock and I’ll tell you from the beginning.”

The ground pulls away. Alex flies away from the canyon so Kara doesn’t have to say goodbye again, but she clenches one fist tightly in her lap.

The tears come but she wipes them away quickly. It’s not that Kara cares whether Alex sees or if she’ll think it’s a weakness. The feelings in Kara’s chest aren’t going away and she feels like once she begins to let them out, she’ll never be able to contain them again.

She wonders how much of herself she’s leaving behind.

Then again, getting off this moon is the first step in a path that will hopefully lead back to Lena.

Once they’ve cleared the lower atmosphere, Alex turns her attention to Kara. “After the battle where - where I thought we lost you - “

“How did you survive that, Alex?” Kara can’t help but interrupt. “I saw the explosions on the bridge.” They had fueled her nightmares, along with so many other horrible things she’d seen.

“I was on the flight deck. When the attack came, I was so worried about you out there, I’d gone down in person to make sure you landed and docked unscathed.”

Both of them had been wrong.

Alex clears her throat. “We couldn’t find any remnants of your ship. We knew you hadn’t been incinerated because your signal persisted, but then it cut off somewhere in the asteroid field, and I was sure - “

She reaches out, clasps Kara’s arm and squeezes. “When we searched as much of the field as we could manage, we thought you’d crashed into one of the asteroids.”

“I - I did,” Kara says, though there’s so much more to the story.

“We had no way to search for you after that because the Luthorian contingent arrived. Most of the fleet personnel were planet-side by then. Only skeleton crews remained on the ships, and an even smaller group was searching for you, but we had to call it off.

“They kicked us off the ships, corralled us on the planet’s surface and interrogated everyone but the children, looking for someone important in the squad that engaged us earlier. We never found out who it was.”

They’d been looking for Lena. The whole time, the Luthorians had been looking for Lena. So close and yet so very far.

“When they didn’t get any answers, things got…rough, Kara. It was bad.”

Her eyes are shadowed by the horrors she must have seen. “And then three weeks ago, every single soldier retreated without explanation. They didn’t even set us free. They just loaded their equipment and left.”

“The planet?”

“The entire system,” Alex says, though she doesn’t sound happy. “They even left the ships they’d reclaimed.”

Kara can’t form the puzzle in her mind – there are too many pieces - but she knows without a doubt that Lena is the solution.

“And then we got the message about you, and…it seemed too good to be true. There had to be a catch, but I couldn’t find one…and then, I - I just couldn’t wait. I had to know.”

Alex guides the ship into the black, veering between asteroids as Kara’s former residence shrinks behind them. The weightlessness that used to be so common feels foreign to Kara now. Once the shuttle clears the asteroid belt, Alex pivots toward the planet that swallows Kara’s view.

Kara is captivated by its brilliance. Krypton is a glorious blue-green mass - not the red of legend – with broad oceans and the dark browns of mountain ranges in its land masses.

This is the world her parents had searched for, the world they said would one day be her home.

_I have no shelter but the stars and no home but where I kneel._

The words pass through her mind and the feelings are overwhelming, more so for her already emotionally volatile state. She is now just a shuttle’s ride from the planet she once feared might not exist.

“Strap in.” Alex adjusts her trajectory for atmospheric entry, but Kara has checked the tightness of her harness several times.

The silent vacuum of space gives way to the roar of thermosphere, swirling with reds and oranges like fire, and then the placid calm of stratosphere.

Kara hasn’t seen a world like this in what feels like half a lifetime. Before her time on the moon, it had been years since she’d stood planet-side, and that distant world had been nothing like this one.

Lakes and trees and meadows and valleys and mountains. It’s all glorious. The colors stun her most - the greens and blues that are starkly different from the browns and reds she’s been staring at for months. Mountains in the distance shade purple and white, the lakes the shuttle flies over are bluer than the sky, the trees are thick and shaded and seem to stretch impossibly high.

A small settlement grows larger as they approach. Colonization tents surround more permanent structures under construction. Nearby, a wide field of churned up mud reveals the former landing spot of a large spaceship.

People move between the tents and buildings with purpose, carrying supplies, operating machinery, and it’s all so much, Kara finds it hard to breathe.

These are her people, but...

“Alex, I can’t - “

She’s not sure what to say, but Alex seems to understand.

“How about we let you get cleaned up first before you return to the masses?”

“Sure,” Kara says, because that’s part of what she wants and nowhere near what she needs.

On the far edge of the settlement is another field designated as a landing area. Personnel move among the several grounded transports and a few more of the colonization tents.

Before Kara is ready, the shuttle is once again on the ground and powering down. Alex unfastens her harness and stands while the door at the stern opens. Bright sunlight and temperate warmth await.

Kara joins Alex at the door. She takes her first breath of the air. It’s clear and crisp and almost stings in her nostrils with the scent of growing things.

“You first.” Alex smiles though her eyes are still full of questions. “Welcome home, Princess.”

_No home but where I kneel._

With one hand on the handle of her knife to center herself, Kara steps onto the green grass of Krypton.


End file.
